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PRINCETON,    N.    J.                         4f> 

Shelf. 

Division 77rr..7Trr^ 

Section    &trj&„ . /. ..!^ 

Number 

i 

ISMS 


OLD    AN~D    NEW 


WINTER  SUNDAY  EVENING  SERMON-SERIES  FOR  1880-81 

DELIVERED  IN  THE  FIRST  BAPTIST 

CHURCH,  CHICAGO 


BY  THE  PASTOR 

GEORGE  C.  LORIMER 

MEMBER  OF  VICTORIA   INSTITUTE,  THE  PHILOSOPHICAL  SOCIETY  OP 
GREAT   BRITAIN 


Till  at  length  no  heavenly  Ism  any  longer  coming  down  upon  us,  Isms  from 

the  other  quarter  have  to  mount  up. 

Carlyle's  "Past  and  Present  " 


CHICAGO 
S.  C.  GRIGGS    AND    COMPANY 

1881 


Copyright,  1881, 
By  S.  C.  GRIGGS  &  COMPANY. 


I     KMIGHT    &.  LECNARP"."] 


TO 

THE  FIRST  BAPTIST  CHURCH,  CHICAGO, 

THESE    DISCOURSES  ARE    INSCRIBED 

WITH  GRATEFUL  MEMORIES  OP 
UNWAVERING  AND  UNCEASING   KINDNESS 

TO  THE  AUTHOR. 


'My  love  be  with  you  all  in  Christ  Jesus,  Amen. 


While  it  is  preeminently  the  duty  of  the  pulpit  to 
expound  the  doctrines  and  precepts  of  Holy  Writ,  there 
are  times  when  it  should  confront  and  challenge  the 
insidious  errors  which  unfit  the  public  mind  to  receive 
attentively  and  believingly  its  expositions.  Exegesis, 
however  eloquent  and  elaborate,  will  be  as  powerless, 
morally  and  religiously,  as  the  learned  interpretations 
of  dusty  Egyptian  hieroglyphics,  if  confidence  is  seriously 
impaired  in  the  Divine  origin  of  the  Book  whose  teach- 
ings it  seeks  to  unfold.  The  unclean  spirit  must  be 
cast  out,  and  the  house  be  swept  and  garnished,  before 
the  spirit  of  truth  will  find  there  a  welcome  and  a  sure 
asylum.  We  invite  the  wayward  to  accept  Christ  and  be 
saved,  and  when  we  chide  them  for  not  doing  so,  we  fre- 
quently overlook  the  fact  that  they  are  in  sympathy  with 
forms  of  thought  which  are  irreconcilable  with  the  claims 
of  that  volume  on  whose  authority  rests  the  duty  so  ear- 
nestly enjoined.  Hamilton  says,  "Plato  in  his  Phaedo 
demonstrated  the  immortality  of  the  soul  from  its  sim- 
plicity; and  in  the  Republic  demonstrated  its  simplicity 
from  its  immortality,"  a  species  of  reasoning  still  in  vogue, 
and  by  many  highly  esteemed,  but  which  is  utterly  inade- 
quate to  meet  the  subtle  and  protean  infidelity  of  our 
age.  Never  will  its  enthusiastic  course  be  arrested,  nor 
its  illusions  be  dispelled,  nor  the  asbestos  fire  it  is  kindling- 
be  quenched,  and  the  Gospel  achieve  its  triumph  over  both 
head  and  heart  until,  abandoning  the  petitio  principii  in 
our  methods,  we  fight  the  enemy  with  its  own  weapons, 
and  prove  at  least  that  it  is  not  invulnerable. 

This  conviction  led  to  the  preparation  of  the  accom- 
panying sermons.  Working  for  Christ  in  a  community 
distinguished  almost  as  much  by  its  mental  restlessness  as 
by  its  business  activity,  the  author  became  convinced  if 
he  would  promote  in  the  highest  sense  the  religious  life  of 
the  unconverted  in  his  congregation  he  must  diminish 
their  confidence  in  certain  prevailing  errors,  and  disengage 


them  from  their  fetters.  His  endeavors  were  so  favorably 
received  that  he  has  ventured  to  seek  for  his  series  a 
wider  sphere  of  usefulness,  by  giving  the  discourses  to 
the  press.  They  are  not,  however,  printed  precisely  as 
they  were  delivered.  They  have  been  subject  to  such 
revision  as  the  cares  of  an  exacting  pastorate,  enhanced 
by  the  labors  incident  to  the  formation  of  a  new  church 
and  the  building  of  a  house  of  worship,  would  permit; 
and  they  have  been  increased  in  number  by  the  addition 
of  several  that  were  not  included  in  the  original  course, 
of  which  the  one  on  Buddhism  is  a  sample,  which  was 
preached  under  a  different  title  soon  after  the  appearance 
of  the  beautiful  poem  which  it  commends  and  reviews. 

In  dealing  with  such  themes  as  are  presented  in  this 
volume,  especially  within  the  limits  usually  prescribed  to 
sermons,  an  author  will  find  himself  frequently  baffled  by 
the  immeasurableness  of  the  territory  he  has  to  traverse, 
and  by  the  shadowy  vagueness  of  the  land  he  seeks  to  in- 
vade. Dr.  Johnson  has  said,  "  There  are  objections  against 
a  plenum  and  also  against  a  vacuum,  but  one  or  the  other 
must  be  true."  Verily;  but  how  much  wearisome  think- 
ing and  how  much  wearisome  writing  would  be  needed  to 
answer  all  these  objections,  and  how  much  more  of  both 
would  be  required  to  completely  fathom  the  emptiness  of 
unbelieving  speculation,  and  to  vindicate  the  fullness  of 
Christian  truth.  This  the  author  of  these  discourses  has 
keenly  felt;  and  he  has  done,  not  the  best  that  could  be 
done,  but  the  best  that  he  could  do  under  the  circum- 
stances. While  not  attempting  an  exhaustive  treatment 
of  these  Isms,  he  has  tried  to  point  out  their  startling- 
dissonances,  their  thought-encircling  darkness,  and  their 
comfortless,  hopeless,  soul-freezing  tendencies;  and  he  has 
tried  to  help  his  readers  to  grasp  more  deeply  and  feel 
more  intensely  those  essential  doctrines  of  religion  that 
meet  the  necessities  of  our  spiritual  life,  as  the  celestial 
poles  coincide  with  the  axis  of  our  revolving  world.  As 
Lord  Byron  says  in  Childe  Harold,  "what  is  writ  is 
writ";  and  the  author  can  only  pray  that  it  may  not 
"die  into  an  echo,"  but  prove  a  word  of  hope  to  many  a 
troubled  heart, —  a  living  seed,  which,  however  lowly  and 
insignificant,  may  not  altogether  prove  either  flowerless  or 
leafless. 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

AGNOSTICISM. 

Or  the  Impregnability  of  Ignorance,  -     -     -     -       9 

II. 

ATHEISM. 

Or  the  Superfluousness  of  Deity, 40 

III. 
PANTHEISM. 

Or  the  Deification  of  the  Universe,       -     -     -     62 

IV. 

MATERIALISM. 

Or  the  Theory  of  Mindless  Mechanism,  -     -     -     82 

V. 

NATURALISM. 

Or  the  World  Without  a  Sovereign,      -     -     -  101 

VI. 

PESSIMISM. 

Or  the  Mystery  of  Human  Suffering,     -     -     -  127 

VII. 
BUDDHISM. 
Or  the   Light   of   Asia  and  the   Light   of  the 

World, 15G 

vii 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

VIII. 

UNITARIANISM. 

Or  the  Superhuman  Manhood  of  Christ,      -     -  182 

IX. 

SPIRITUALISM. 

Or  the  Modern  Necromancy,   -     - 205 

X. 

SKEPTICISM. 
Or  the  Unreasonableness  of  Doubt,   ...     -  229 

XI. 

LIBERALISM. 

Or  the  Limits  of  Thought-Freedom,      ....  250 

XII. 

FORMALISM. 

Or  the  Relation  of  Shadow  to  Substance,      -  267 

XIII. 

DENOMINATIONALISM. 

Or  Christian  Unity  in  Diversity,     -     -     -     -     -  284 

XIV. 

MAMMONISM. 

Or  the  Savageness  of  Money-Greed,   -     -     -     -  303 

XV. 

PAUPERISM. 

Or  the  Problem  of  Poverty,   -------  326 

XVI. 

ALTRUISM. 

Or  the  Law  of  Self-Sacrifice,     ---»--  345 


ISMS  OLD  AND  NEW. 


AGNOSTICISM. 

"  To  the  Unknown  God."    Acts  xmi,  23. 

"  And  toward  me  now,  the  self-same  paths  I  see  a  pilgrim  steer. 
Halt,  wanderer!  halt!  — and  answer  me.— What,  pilgrim,  seek'st 
thou  here? 

To  the  world's  last  shore 

I  am  sailing  o'er, 
Where  life  lives  no  longer  to  anchor  alone, 
And  gaze  on  creation's  last  boundary  stone. 
Thou  sail'st  in  vain.—  Return !     Before  thy  path,  infinity! 
And  thou  in  vain!  —  Behind  me  spreads  infinity  to  thee! 

Fold  thy  wings,  drooping, 

O  thought,  eagle  swooping! 
Oh,  fantasie,  anchor!    The  voyage  is  o'er: 
Creation,  wild  sailor,  flows  on  to  no  shore!  " 

Lyttori>8  Schiller. 

IN  a  curious  book,  called  The  Rosicrucicms,  an  Eng- 
lish peasant  is  represented  as  making  an  important 
discovery.  As  he  was  completing  a  trench  on  the  close 
of  a  long  day's  work,  his  pick  suddenly  struck  something 
hard,  which  emitted  sparks.  On  examination  it  proved  to 
be  an  oblong  slab  of  granite,  in  the  center  of  which  was 
inserted  an  iron  ring.  After  considerable  labor  he  re- 
moved the  stone,  and  found  that  it  covered  an  entrance 
leading  to  subterranean  chambers.  Although  it  required 
no  small  degree  of  courage  to  do  so,  he  determined  to 
descend  the  rude  and  broken  steps  and  attempt  to  pene- 


10  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

trate  the  darkness.  Down  he  clambered,  and  pressed  on 
until  the  aperture  above  him  had  disappeared  and  the 
blackness  of  night  enswathed  him.  He  continued,  how- 
ever, to  persevere  in  his  perilous  journey,  and  "at  the 
foot  of  a  steeper  staircase  of  stone  he  saw  a  steady 
though  pale  light "  gleaming.  "  This  was  shining  as  if 
from  a  star,  or  coming  from  the  center  of  the  earth." 
Naturally  enough  his  alarm  increased;  but,  resolutely 
hushing  the  voice  of  fear,  he  decided  to  explore  the  cave 
yet  farther,  and  if  possible  solve  the  mystery.  But  as 
he  cautiously  felt  his  way  he  thought  he  heard  noises 
as  of  horses  and  wagons  over  his  head,  which,  combined 
with  strange  aromas  that  filled  the  cavern,  heightened 
his  bewilderment  and  apprehension.  Awe  stricken  as  he 
was,  he  followed  the  light,  which  grew  brighter  as  he 
advanced,  and  gradually  led  him  to  a  large,  square  built 
chamber.  "  Here  was  a  nagged  pavement  and  a  some- 
what lofty  roof,  in  the  groins  of  which  was  a  rose,  ex- 
quisitely carved  in  dark  stone  or  marble."  The  place 
was  solemn  and  gloomy,  and  great  was  the  surprise  of 
the  rustic  to  see  in  the  chamber  the  image  of  a  man 
sitting  in  a  rude  chair,  intently  reading  a  huge  book 
by  the  nickering  radiance  of  an  ancient  lamp  suspended 
from  the  ceiling.  An  involuntary  cry  of  astonishment 
rose  to  his  lips,  and,  though  anxious  to  retreat,  he  act- 
ually took  a  step  forward,  and  as  he  did  so  the  figure 
started  bolt  upright,  as  if  amazed  at  his  boldness.  Its 
hooded  head  was  reared  apparently  in  angry  mood,  and 
it  moved  as  though  it  would  address  the  intruder.  The 
peasant,  with  that  recklessness  which  seems  to  come  to 
the  human  heart  on  the  approach  of  danger,  was  not 
to  be  deterred  by  threatening  looks,  and  therefore  he 
drew  nearer  and  yet  nearer  to  the  occupant  of  the  stone- 
like throne.  But  as  he  advanced  the  hooded  form  thrust 
out  its  long  arm  and  waved  an  iron  baton  forbiddingly; 


THOUGHT    LIMITATIONS.  11 

and  then,  as  if  perceiving  that  the  intruder  would  pre- 
sumptuously adventure  closer,  it  violently  struck  the 
lamp,  and  amid  crashing  detonating  thunders  out  went 
the  light.  Enwrapped  in  darkness  the  brave  peasant 
tremblingly  stood,  and  realized  that  he  had  reached  a 
boundary  inviolable.  He  found  himself  in  the  abyss  of 
midnight,  reflecting,  doubtless,  on  what  had  taken  place, 
and  slowly  discerning  that  the  effort  to  transcend  the 
limits  of  inquiry  had  only  resulted  in  distracting  disor- 
der and  paralyzing  portents. 

Ever  since  man  discovered  the  door  that  leads  to  the 
mysterious  courts  of  knowledge,  he  has,  lighted  by  rea- 
son, steadily  pursued  his  way  along  tortuous  labyrinths 
intent  on  possessing  truth  in  its  completeness,  impatiently 
exclaiming,  with  the  youth  portrayed  by  Schiller,  "What 
have  I  if  I  have  not  all?"  Before  him  Nature,  silent, 
stern,  sublime,  holding  in  its  hand  an  inspired  volume  — 
the  Bible, —  has  risen  clearly  and  distinctly  before  his 
mental  vision.  Through  the  weary  course  of  years,  amid 
the  thunderous  roar  of  social  and  religious  revolutions, 
he  has  drawn  closer  and  closer  to  the  "Giant  Image," 
"dim  gleaming  through  the  hush  of  the  large  gloom," 
and  has  sought  to  penetrate  its  mightiest  and  deepest 
secrets.  But  ever  has  his  impetuous  search,  "urged 
by  the  sharp  fever  of  the  wish  to  know,"  been  baffled, 
and  baffled  when  success  seemed  most  assured.  Triumph 
has  quickly  changed  into  defeat.  Evermore  has  a  mys- 
terious hand  warned  back  the  ambitious  invader  of  the 
Inscrutable,  and  mute  lips  have  seemed  to  murmur,  "Hith- 
erto shalt  thou  come,  but  no  further";  if,  however,  in 
blind  intrepidity  he  has  disdained  the  warning,  and  has 
continued  "to  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread,"  darkness 
has  settled  over  all  his  knowledge,  and  the  harmonies  of 
nature  and  of  grace  have  grown  discordant.  Many  a 
mind    has    been    beclouded,    many   a    soul    has   been   sad- 


12  ISMS   OLD    AND    NEW. 

dened,  "the  sweet  serenity  of  life  has  fled,"  and  "deep 
anguish  has  dug  an  early  grave,"  through  the  failure  of 
inquiry  to  arrest  its  search  at  the  boundary  line  of  the 
impenetrable.  To  this  boundary  the  Rosicrucian  tradi- 
tion points;  and  wise  the  man  who  recognizes  its  impas- 
sableness,  and  content  with  what  of  knowledge  is  attain- 
able, frets  not  because  beyond  the  reach  of  thought  the 
pathless  obscure  extends. 

Everywhere  throughout  the  universe  are  limitations 
manifest.  The  fire-planets,  that  in  their  swift  and  mazy 
revolutions  seem  to  sweep  at  pleasure  through  the  un- 
shored  sea  of  space,  are  restrained  and  curbed,  held  to 
particular  orbits,  from  which  they  never  deviate,  and  be- 
yond which  they  cannot  circle.  Oceans  roll  and  impetu- 
ously drive  their  landward  waves,  and,  dashing  surgeful 
waters  against  nature's  rugged  barriers,  threaten  to  sub- 
merge the  earth.  But  all  in  vain  their  stormful  rage  and 
mad  ambition.  Ragged,  jagged  rocks  intercept  the  law- 
less billows,  and  proudly  disperse  their  strength  in  iri- 
descent spray;  and  even  defenseless  sands  check  their 
tumultuous  advance,  and  convert  their  white-capped 
breakers  into  idle,  crawling,  harmless  foam.  Plants  and 
animals  are  circumscribed  by  zones  and  latitudes,  or  are 
so  conditioned  by  some  special  element,  that  where  one 
class  or  order  flourishes  others  sicken,  pine  and  die. 
Birds  for  the  air,  and  fish  for  the  water,  and  both  for  the 
narrower  sphere  within  these  broad  domains  to  which  they 
are  adapted.  The  bald,  grave  eagle,  around  whose  iron 
talons  has  been  bound  an  iron  chain,  excites  our  pity, 
because  he  cannot  rise  on  mighty  wing  to  salute  the  burn- 
ing splendor  of  the  noon-tide  sun.  His  ignoble  fetters 
fatally  curtail  his  freedom,  and  his  straitened  flight  is  easily 
surpassed  by  the  ungainly  efforts  of  the  humblest  fowl.  The 
length  of  his  chain  determines  the  height  of  his  winged 
ascent.     But  release  him,  set  him  free,  and  let  his  strong, 


AN   AMBITIOUS   FISH.  13 

swift  pinions  bear  him  far  beyond  the  reach  of  man,  and 
think  you  it  will  even  then  be  possible  for  him  to  escape 
all  trammels  ?  No ;  though  he  soar  to  the  gateway  of  the 
morning,  he  will  at  last  reach  a  point  impassable,  and  all 
his  efforts  to  cleave  a  passage  to  a  region  higher  than  the 
sustaining  air  will  end  in  sad  defeat.  He  is,  when  in  the 
enjoyment  of  his  widest  liberty,  as  truly  caged  in  the  cir- 
cumambient atmosphere  as  is  the  silver-voiced  canary  that 
impatiently  beats  against  the  glittering  wires  of  its  little 
prison-house.  Perhaps  an  ambitious  fish  of  the  intellectual 
order  so  eloquently  described  by  Dr.  Lindsay  can  be  im- 
agined as  fretting  that  his  existence  should  be  bounded  by 
the  watery  element.  He  can  easily  be  pictured  as  com- 
plaining that  his  aspiring  mind  should  be  "  cabined,  cribbed 
and  confined"  within  the  narrow  limits  of  sea  or  lake, 
when  a  vast  universe  stretches  out  immeasurable  beyond. 
Such  a  member  of  the  piscatorial  family  would  undoubt- 
edly contend  that  it  is  unfair  to  hold  him  captive,  and  pre- 
vent his  mingling  with  happier  creatures  who  range  the 
earth  according,  as  he  supposes,  "to  their  own  sweet 
will."  "Why,"  he  might  inquire,  "should  he  be  deprived 
of  the  fair  fields,  the  fresh  flowers,  and  sublime  scenery, 
which  yield  untold  delight  to  others?"  And  after  much 
meditation  on  the  dark  problem,  we  can  readily  conceive 
of  him  as  deciding  to  escape  this  thralldom,  and  enlarge 
indefinitely  his  sphere  of  action.  Sapient  fish!  an  avenue 
of  escape  undoubtedly  may  be  found,  and  when  least  ex- 
pected your  hopes  of  emancipation  be  completely  realized. 
For  instance,  an  angler's  hook  promisingly  flashes  in  the 
water,  and  if  the  opportunity  is  instantaneously  improved, 
the  reflective  fish,  after  feeling  a  sharp  sensation  in  his 
gill,  and  a  rude,  sudden  jerk,  will  find  himself  —  where? 
Where  ?  —  why  here  upon  the  land,  gasping  for  breath, 
and  hearing  from  irreverent  lips  the  exclamation,  "After 
all,  I  have  only  caught  a  gudgeon."     The   fisherman    is 


14  ISMS    OLD   AtfD    NEW. 

right;  only  a  gudgeon  would  fall  into  the  error  of  suppos- 
ing that  life  can  be  other  than  conditioned,  or  that  its 
happiness  and  welfare  can  be  promoted  by  ignoring  the 
restrictions  under  which  it  has  been  placed. 

Like  the  lower  orders  of  creation,  man  is  hedged  in, 
walled  around,  and  circumscribed.  Law  touches  him  on 
every  side,  and  he  can  neither  breathe  nor  move,  feel  nor 
act,  beyond  the  confines  of  its  kingdom.  He  can  neither 
see  nor  hear  if  but  a  step  too  far  from  the  object  of  sight 
and  the  source  of  sound;  and  constantly  he  discovers  that 
his  senses  are  only  operative  within  a  narrow  and  con- 
tracted circle.  Indeed,  man  is  a  veritable  Robinson 
Crusoe,  "lord  of  all  he  surveys,"  free  within  certain  pre- 
scribed limits,  and  yet  a  captive  held  within  this  space- 
girt  island  which  we  call  earth.  And  as  he  is  physically, 
so  is  he  mentally.  His  mind,  like  his  engirded  body, 
has  a  well-defined  capacity  and  sweep,  but  it  is  horizoned 
and  rigidly  environed.  Fancy  may  roam  unfettered  and 
create  a  universe  where  it  does  not  find  one;  but  reason  is 
shackled,  and  its  strongly  pulsating  struggles  for  emanci- 
pation are  ever  baffled  and  defeated.  The  Scriptures 
insist  on  the  comparatively  narrow  range  of  man's  intel- 
lectual powers.  They  declare  that  there  are  questions 
utterly  dense  and  impermeable  to  his  understanding,  a 
region  of  knowledge  whose  frontiers  he  may  inspect,  but 
never  pass.  The  deeper  mysteries  of  life  and  grace  these 
Scriptures  undertake  to  reveal,  but  never  to  explain:  to 
make  them  clear  to  faith,  not  comprehensible  to  reason. 
"We  now  see  through  a  glass  darkly;"  we  "cannot  find 
God  out  to  perfection,"  and  neither  can  we  grasp  the  mean- 
ing of  the  glory  that  awaits  us,  for,  as  it  is  written,  "  it  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be."  When  the  Almighty 
in  the  book  of  Job  is  represented  as  answering  the  saintly 
patriarch  out  of  the  whirlwind,  He  affirms  that  His  rela- 
tion to  the  universe  is  unexplorable  by  mortal  man,  that 


THE   THEOLOGICAL   ORBIT.  15 

the  mystery  of  the  seas  is  unfathomable,  that  the  dwelling 
place  of  light  is  impenetrable,  and  the  gates  of  the  shadow 
of  death  impassable.  He  inquires  of  His  suffering  servant, 
"  Knowest  thou  it  because  thou  wast  then  born,  or  because 
the  number  of  thy  days  is  great?"  To  which  the  answer 
might  have  been  given  in  David's  inspired  words,  "  Such 
knowledge  is  too  great  for  me;  it  is  high,  I  cannot  attain 
unto  it."  And  thus  it  follows  that  what  God  said  to  the 
sea,  "Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  but  no  further,  and  here 
shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed,"  is  as  applicable  to  the 
mind;  for  thought,  especially  religious  thought,  is  con- 
stantly checked  by  an  invisible  border-land  which  it  can- 
not pass,  and  before  which  it  must  inevitably  pause. 

The  history  of  theological  science  fully  confirms  this 
doctrine.  Its  honored  masters  have  continually  circled 
within  an  orbit  of  ideas,  from  whence  they  have  never 
been  able  permanently  to  depart.  Eccentric  individuals 
who  have  desired  to  rank  with  theologians,  and  who  have 
sought  applause  by  advancing  radical  novelties  in  the 
realm  of  faith,  have  generally  gleamed  meteor-like  across 
the  ecclesiastical  sky,  and  have  gone  out  at  last  in  the 
darkness  of  unbelief,  or  have  been  constrained  by  an 
uncontrollable  something  practically  to  return  to  the 
old  statements  of  the  deep  questions  which  have  per- 
plexed man's  understanding  from  the  beginning.  Nei- 
ther have  they,  nor  others,  been  able  to  do  more  than 
penetrate  the  surface  of  the  doctrines  concerning  infini- 
tudes, trinities,  cosmogonies,  redemptions,  providences, 
eternities  and  immortalities  on  which  their  attention  has 
been  fixed.  They  have  only  disturbed  the  polish  on  the 
marble;  they  have  never  yet  found  a  way  to  the  real 
heart  of  the  texture.  Up  to  a  certain  point,  adventurous 
inquiries  have  been  successfully  urged,  but  a  Divine  ap- 
pointment, like  unto  that  which  arrests  the  proud  waves  at 
the  sandy  coast-line,  has  uniformly  driven  them  back  from 


16  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

the  borders  of  the  infinite.  An  impediment,  somewhat 
like  to  the  flaming  sword  that  guarded  the  entrance  to 
Eden's  bowers,  seems  to  protect  the  heavenly  arcanum 
from  too  near  approach.  Consequently  theology  is  frag- 
mentary, incoherent,  not  exhaustive  and  complete;  and 
its  dogmatic  statements,  in  comparison  with  the  realities 
they  symbolize,  are  as  a  spark  to  the  sun,  as  an  arc  to 
a  circle,  and  as  the  shrill  notes  of  a  tuneless  organ  to 
a  chorus  of  angels.  The  science  of  Logic  also  witnesses 
to  the  restrictions  imposed  on  thought.  It  lays  down 
the  laws  of  reasoning,  and  so  clearly  defined  are  all  the 
processes  of  mental  action  in  investigation  and  verification 
that  this  science  has  made  but  little,  if  any,  advance 
since  the  days  of  Aristotle.  What  Whately,  Mill  or 
Hegel  has  added  affects  none  of  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples laid  down  by  him  of  Stagira;  and  the  unprogress- 
iveness  of  these  principles  proves  that  our  thinking  is 
unchangeably  conditioned.  And,  evidently,  these  limita- 
tions are  on  our  faculties,  not  on  the  truth;  we,  not  it,  are 
bound.  We  are  forced  to  think  in  certain  channels,  and 
we  are  all  conscious  of  meeting  the  same  barriers,  at  the 
base  of  which  daring  speculative  thought  may  surge  a 
little,  but  which  arrest  with  painful  certitude  its  advance. 
But  these  barriers  are  within,  not  without;  they  reside 
in  man's  constitution,  not  in  the  nature  of  things  be- 
yond; they  are  due  to  some  defect  in  man's  understand- 
ing, not  to  the  parsimoniousness  of  truth;  they  are  deter- 
mined by  his  character  as  a  creature,  not  decreed  by  the 
jealousy  of  a  Creator.  Man  is  finite,  and  the  truth  he 
seeks  is  infinite;  and  the  finite,  with  all  its  straining,  can 
never  compass  the  infinite.  As  the  shell  that  is  washed 
by  the  ocean  cannot  contain  within  itself  the  immensity  of 
waters,  as  our  little  earth  that  is  refreshed  by  the  sun  can- 
not hold  the  vast  bulk  of  the  solar  world  in  its  bosom, 


THE   ATHENIAN    ALTAE.  17 

so  neither  can  man's  measurable  capacity  grasp  and  hold 
immeasurable  magnitudes. 

Perhaps  in  the  whole  domain  of  inquiry  there  is  no 
truth  that  more  fully  commands  the  assent  of  reason  than 
this,  and  yet  there  is  none  more  liable  to  be  perverted. 
Beginning  with  limitations  which  cannot  be  denied,  it  is 
not  difficult  to  push  the  doctrine  to  the  extreme  of  Nes- 
cience in  matters  of  theology.  Religious  Pyrrhonism  or 
Nihilism  has  more  than  once  been  the  outgrowth  of  legiti- 
mate endeavors  to  measure  the  capabilities  of  thought,  and 
in  this  age  it  is  of  the  gravest  moment  that  nothing  should 
be  said  or  done  to  encourage  so  serious  a  heresy. 

When  Paul  went  to  Athens  he  found  there  an  altar 
to  the  Unknown  God.  With  that  spiritual  intuition  which 
led  so  many  ancient  peoples  to  recognize  above  their  mul- 
tiplied inferior  deities  One  Supreme  Being,  these  philo- 
sophical Greeks  perceived  that  the  crowds  of  gods  which 
filled  their  Pantheon  could  not  account  for  this  wonderful 
universe,  and  that  there  must  be  One  superior  to  them  all 
unto  whom  should  be  rendered  homage  and  praise.  The 
apostle  acknowledged  their  scrupulous  devoutness,  and 
when  he  preached  he  revealed  to  them  the  Being  whom 
they  ignorantly  worshiped.  Mark  this.  He  did  not  as- 
sume that  they  could  comprehend  the  Invisible  Mighti- 
ness, but  he  did  claim  that  they  could  knoio  Him.  Hence 
the  discourse  which  follows  the  text,  in  which  the  spirit- 
uality, creatorship,  and  sovereignty  of  God  are  affirmed. 

In  our  times  efforts  are  being  made  to  rebuild  this 
Athenian  altar.  A  party  has  arisen  on  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic  who,  carrying  the  doctrine  of  thought  limitations 
to  an  absurd  extreme,  maintain  very  earnestly  that  it  is 
impossible  to  know  anything  of  those  deep  and  perplexing 
subjects  which  are  involved  in  religion.  They  admit  that 
there  may  be  a  Deity,  a  spiritual  world,  and  a  future  life, 
but  at  the  same  time  they  assure  us  that  we  have  no 
2 


18  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

means  of  knowing  that  there  are,  and  that,  being  con- 
stituted as  we  are,  we  can  never  expect  to  remedy  this 
ignorance.  Of  course  we  can  guess,  wish,  and  dream 
indefinitely,  but  all  of  our  speculations  are  only  like 
the  deceptive  mirage,  unverifiable  and  unsatisfying. 
Theological  doctrines  are  but  the  shadows  of  our  hopes 
and  fears  cast  on  the  curtains  of  the  universe,  or  the 
echoes  of  our  own  desires  which  we  have  been  shouting 
in  our  folly,  and  which  return  to  plague  us.  Man  may 
be  compared  to  a  child  wandering  among  the  mountains, 
who  in  its  fear  and  agony  cries  aloud  on  "  Father,"  and 
hears  the  name  repeated  in  the  distance,  and  then  calls 
"  Father,  seek  your  son,"  and  in  return  catches  the  as- 
suring response,  "Son";  and  then,  with  a  gleam  of  joy 
in  the  heart,  exclaims,  in  fond  anticipation  of  deliverance, 
"  Home,"  and  backward  to  him  comes  the  word,  as  though 
whispered  by  angel  voices,  "  Home."  But,  after  all,  these 
are  but  echoes,  and  lost  indeed  would  be  the  child  who 
should  heed  them.  Such,  it  is  claimed,  is  man's  position 
in  the  universe.  A  profound  silence  reigns  around  him, 
and  he  breaks  it  with  the  sound  of  his  own  voice,  and 
fancies  that  its  echo  is  the  voice  of  the  Invisible.  Nor  will 
he  be  persuaded  of  his  error,  but  clings  to  it,  imagining 
that  he  knows,  when  in  reality  he  knows  nothing;  bab- 
bling about  seeing  through  a  glass  darkly,  when  in  fact 
he  cannot  see  at  all;  talking  of  his  inability  to  find  out 
God  unto  perfection,  when  actually  it  is  impossible  for 
him  to  ascertain  whether  there  is  such  a  Being  or  not. 

This  is  the  creed  of  the  Agnostic,  the  gospel  of  "  know- 
nothingism,"  as  it  has  been  recently  called,  whose  altar 
is  reared  not  only  to  the  Unknown,  but  to  the  Unknow- 
able. Dr.  Porter,  of  Yale  College,  in  an  article  on  Her- 
bert Spencer,  quotes  a  few  verses,  which  give  a  fair  idea 
of  Agnostic  belief,  and  which  also  illustrate  its  explana- 
tion of  religion  as  it  is  found  among  men: 


THE    AGNOSTICS    DOCTRINE.  19 

"At  the  end  of  every  road  there  stands  a  wall, 
Not  built  by  hands,—  impenetrable,  bare. 
Behind  it  lies  an  unknown  land.    And  all 
The  paths  men  plod  tend  to  it,  and  end  there. 
Each  man,  according  to  his  humor,  paints 
On  that  bare  wall  strange  landscapes,  dark  or  bright, 
Peopled  with  forms  of  friends  or  forms  of  saints, — 
Hells  of  despair  or  Edens  of  delight." 

Then  the  poet  describes  how  the  painters  call  upon 
their  fellows  to  "tremble  or  rejoice,"  as  though  their 
pictures  were  realities,  and  how  indignant  they  grow  when 
some  "sacrilegious  hand"  wipes  off  their  landscapes  and 
exposes  the  hard,  cold,  impenetrable  wall.  He  portrays 
their  anger  and  excitement  at  the  desecration,  and  repre- 
sents them  as  saying  that  it  were  better  to  have  fiends 
and  flames  painted  by  fancy  than  this  bare,  blind,  and 
empty  obstruction. 

"And  straight  the  old  work  begins  again 
Of  picture-painting     And  men  shout  and  call 
For  response  to  their  pleasure  or  pain, 
Getting  back  echoes  from  that  painted  wall." 

As  a  fit  supplement  to  this  poetic  statement  hear  what 
Mr.  Huxley  has  to  say  on  man's  duty  and  on  the  subjects 
which  should  engage  his  attention,  and  which  should  oc- 
cupy his  time.  Whether  he  classes  himself  with  avowed 
agnostics  or  not,  the  sentences  I  quote  express  their  opin- 
ions very  faithfully.  In  one  of  his  Sunday  evening  lect- 
ures to  the  people  he  says:  "If  a  man  asks  me  what  the 
politics  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  moon  are,  and  I  reply 
that  I  do  not  know,  that  neither  I  nor  anyone  else  have 
any  means  of  knowing,  and  that  under  these  circumstances 
I  decline  to  trouble  myself  about  the  subject  at  all,  I  do 
not  think  that  he  has  any  right  to  call  me  a  skeptic.  On 
the  contrary,  in  replying  thus  I  conceive  that  I  am  sim- 
ply honest  and  truthful,  and  show  a  proper  regard  for 
the  economy  of  time.     So  Hume's  strong  and  subtle  in- 


20  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

tellect  takes  up  a  great  many  problems  about  which  we 
are  naturally  curious,  and  shows  us  that  they  are  essen- 
tially questions  of  lunar  politics,  in  their  essence  incapable 
of  being  answered,  and  therefore  not  worth  the  attention 
of  men  who  have  work  to  do  in  the  world."  Having 
quoted  from  Hume  a  passage  where  he  recommends  that 
volumes  of  divinity  be  given  to  the  flames,  as  containing 
nothing  but  sophistry  and  illusion,  Mr.  Huxley  continues: 
"  Permit  me  to  enforce  this  most  wise  advice.  Why  trouble 
ourselves  about  matters  of  which,  however  important  they 
may  be,  we  do  know  nothing  and  can  know  nothing?  We 
live  in  a  world  which  is  full  of  misery  and  ignorance,  and 
the  plain  duty  of  each  and  all  of  us  is  to  try  to  make  the 
little  corner  he  can  influence  somewhat  less  miserable  and 
somewhat  less  ignorant  than  it  was  before  he  entered  it. 
To  do  this  effectually  it  is  necessary  to  be  fully  possessed 
of  only  two  beliefs.  The  first,  that  the  order  of  nature 
is  ascertainable  by  our  faculties  to  an  extent  which  is 
practically  unlimited;  the  second,  that  our  volition  counts 
for  something  as  the  condition  of  the  order  of  events." 
(Fortnightly  Review,  February,  1869.) 

This  is  Agnosticism,  and  there  are  reasons  for  believing 
that  it  is  multiplying  converts.  There  is  that  about  it 
which  seems  so  reverent,  so  modest,  and  so  humble  that 
it  fascinates  many  minds.  And  then  it  deals  so  sum- 
marily with  perplexities,  and  chimes  in  so  harmoniously 
with  man's  devotion  to  the  things  of  earth,  relieving  him 
of  obligation  to  search  for  religious  truth  and  to  serve 
its  Infinite  Author,  that  it  seems  to  be  the  real  philoso- 
phy of  life,  and  to  be  worthy  the  adoption  of  the  wise 
and  prudent.  The  temptation  is,  therefore,  great  to  em- 
brace it  without  due  reflection,  and  to  overlook  the  very 
grave  objections  which  lie  against  its  credibleness.  These 
objections  are  derived  from  various  sources,  and  deserve 
to  be  fairly  weighed  before  the  emptiness   of  Religious 


PROFESSOR   TYNDALL'S   OPINION.  21 

Nihilism  is  substituted  for  the  fullness  of  Christian  Faith. 
A  brief  examination  will  abundantly  establish  their  va- 
lidity, and  will  conclusively  show  that  this  specious  Ism  is 

Condemned  by  Science, 

Refuted  by  Reason, 

Contradicted  by  Experience, 

Rejected  by  Revelation,  and 

Discredited  by  Morality. 
And,  surely,  the  strength  and  significance  of  these  various 
protests  should  be  candidly  and  conscientiously  estimated 
by  every  one  who  desires  to  commit  himself  only  to  such 
opinions  as  rest  on  firm  foundations. 

The  attitude  of  many  leading  scientists  unquestionably 
is  favorable  to  the  assumptions  of  Agnosticism.  This 
damaging  fact  I  do  not  attempt  to  conceal.  Already  we 
have  heard  from  Mr.  Huxley,  and  in  the  same  direction 
Professor  Tyndall  has  written:  "The  mind  of  man  may  be 
compared  to  a  musical  instrument  with  a  certain  range  of 
notes,  beyond  which  in  both  directions  we  have  an  infini- 
tude of  silence.  The  phenomena  of  matter  and  force  lie 
within  our  intellectual  range,  and  as  far  as  they  reach  we 
will  at  all  hazards  push  our  inquiries.  But  behind  and 
above  and  around  all  the  real  mystery  of  this  universe 
lies  unsolved,  and,  as  far  as  we  are  concerned,  is  incapable 
of  solution."  But  though  scientists  frequently  indulge  in 
such  representations,  we  are  not,  therefore,  to  conclude 
that  they  are  warranted  or  approved  by  science  itself. 
They  are  far  from  being  scientific.  Science  tells  a  differ- 
ent story.  It  knows,  and  otherwise  it  dare  not  report, 
that  as  much  mystery  enshrouds  "the  phenomena  of  mat- 
ter and  force"  as  invests  what  lies  behind  them,  and  that 
our  "intellectual  range"  is  no  more  equal  to  the  complete 
comprehension  of  the  one  than  the  other.  The  great 
preacher,  P.  Felix,  in  one  of  his  Notre  Dame  Conferences 
impressively  inquires,  "Who  has  been  able  to  penetrate 


22  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

the  secret  of  the  formation  of  a  body,  the  generation  of  a 
single  atom  ?  What  is  there  I  will  not  say  at  the  center 
of  a  sun,  but  at  the  center  of  an  atom  ?  Who  has  sounded 
to  the  bottom  the  abyss  in  a  grain  of  sand  ?  The  grain  of 
sand,  gentlemen,  has  been  studied  four  thousand  years  by 
science;  she  has  turned  and  re-turned  it;  she  divides  it 
and  subdivides  it;  she  torments  it  with  her  experiments; 
she  vexes  it  with  her  questions,  to  snatch  from  it  the  final 
word  as  to  its  secret  constitution;  she  asks  it,  with  an 
insatiable  curiosity,  Shall  I  divide  thee  infinitesimally  ? 
Then,  suspended  over  this  abyss,  science  hesitates,  she 
stumbles,  she  feels  dazzled,  she  becomes  dizzy,  and  in 
despair  says,  "I  do  not  know."  And,  in  like  manner,  who 
has  fathomed  the  oceanic  depths  of  mystery  in  a  single 
drop  of  water  ?  This  question  I  have  often  asked  myself; 
I  have  sought  an  answer  from  the  books  of  science,  and 
having  heard  their  dim  responses,  T  have  come  to  believe 
that  there  is  in  this  familiar  object,  which  hangs  like  pearls 
on  grass  and  flower,  which  sparkles  in  the  sun,  and  which 
sweeps  in  evening  rains  and  exhales  in  morning  dew,  seas 
of  enigmas  deep  enough  to  drown  the  mightiest  intellects. 
Thought  has  sailed  over  it  for  thousands  of  years,  but  no 
coast-line  has  ever  yet  been  reached,  and  no  bottom  has 
ever  yet  been  found.  We  easily  express  its  constituent 
elements,  and  yet  we  are  far  from  realizing  the  terrible 
forces  that  are  contained  and  that  slumber  in  its  bosom. 
Were  these  suddenly  set  free,  they  would  devastate  with 
the  fury  of  a  midnight  tempest,  and  would  startle  us  with 
the  wild  evidences  of  their  Titanic  power.  As  Faraday  has 
shown,  the  energy  of  800,000  charges  of  the  Leyden  bat- 
tery is  lodged  in  a  drop  of  water,  sufficient  to  produce  an 
effect  equal  to  a  stroke  of  lightning.  But  can  a  Faraday 
explain  this  tremendous  and  overwhelming  wonder  ?  Can 
any  mind  find  it  out  unto  perfection?  No;  inquire  as  we 
may,  we   must   still   confess   our  ignorance.     Oceans  are 


HEAVENLY    MAGNITUDES.  23 

necessary  to  engulf  our  ships,  but  a  drop  of  water  seems 
all-sufficient  to  engulf  our  reason. 

But  if  an  atom  is  as  a  trackless  continent  and  a  water- 
drop  as  an  unnavigable  sea,  what  shall  we  say  to  the 
majesty  of  the  universe  ?  We  boastingly  parade  our  in- 
tellectual conquests  over  nature,  and  yet,  if  we  have  not 
subdued  an  atom,  how  insignificant  must  be  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  heavens!  We  have  above  us  gleaming  a 
world  —  the  sun  —  containing  in  its  mass  a  volume  of  sub- 
stance larger  than  that  which  composes  the  bulk  of  the 
united  worlds  in  the  center  of  whose  mighty  circle  it  spins 
and  shines.  Astronomers  have  proven  that  it  is  one  mill- 
ion three  hundred  thousand  times  vaster  than  the  globe; 
and  that  three  hundred  years  would  be  needed  to  circum- 
navigate it,  while  three  years  would  suffice,  at  the  same 
rate  of  speed,  to  voyage  around  this  petty  terraqueous 
ball.  Its  heat,  and  the  terrific  energy  of  its  heat,  scien- 
tists have  in  vain  tried  to  measure.  They  have  never  yet 
been  able  to  convey  to  the  mind  a  comprehensible  idea  of 
this  tremendous  force.  The  column  of  ice  fifty-four  miles 
in  diameter,  propelled  at  a  rate  of  two  hundred  and  ten 
thousand  miles  per  minute,  which  Herschel  figures  would 
be  needful  to  perceptibly  diminish  its  intensity;  or  the 
comparison  of  Tyndall,  that  the  heat  of  the  sun  every 
hour  is  equal  to  the  combustion  of  nearly  seven  leagues 
thick  of  coal,  distributed  over  an  area  as  vast  as  its  own 
surface,  stimulates  the  imagination,  but  only  astounds  and 
prostrates  the  reason.  Then  beyond  our  solar  system 
there  are  glowing  orbs,  and  solitudes  of  unpeopled  space, 
processions  of  nebulas,  unkindled  suns,  and  embryo  stars, 
moving  at  different  rates  of  velocity  and  in  various  direc- 
tions, in  comparison  with  which  the  solar  system  is  as 
the  dew-drops  pendent  from  the  flower  that  lifts  its  tiny 
head  on  the  vast  ocean's  verge.  Sir  William  Herschel,  in 
the  eighteenth  century,  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  un- 


24  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

dertook  with  the  aid  of  his  gigantic  telescope  to  count  the 
stars  in  the  Milky  Way,  and  as  the  result  of  his  investiga- 
tions arrived  at  a  totality  of  more  than  eighteen  million 
suns.  Yet  even  this  is  only  an  inconsiderable  fraction  of 
the  unnumbered  worlds  which,  bound  by  ties  and  sweet 
affinities,  roll  harmoniously  in  the  ether-depths  throughout 
the  immensity  of  creation,  whose  fathomless  tides  seem 
"to  flow  on  to  no  shore."  Who  has  ever  had  steadiness 
of  mind  sufficient  to  follow  their  mazy  courses,  and  who 
has  been  able  to  comprehend  the  unity  which  pervades 
the  whole?  Light,  traveling  two  hundred  miles  a  sec- 
ond, takes  thousands  of  years  to  reach  our  planet  from 
some  of  the  cresset  lamps  that  gleam  in  heaven.  Venus  is 
27,000,000  miles  from  the  sun;  the  nearest  fixed  star  is 
20,000,000,000  miles  distant  from  the  earth;  and  deserts 
of  creation  doubtless  separate  such  worlds  remote  from 
the  confines  of  yet  remoter  systems.  But  who  is  there 
that  really  understands  what  these  prodigious  distances 
and  spaces  signify  ?  We  represent  them  to  the  eye  in 
figures,  but  no  mind  is  capable  of  forming  a  just  con- 
ception of  their  exhaustless  meaning.  They  exceed  the 
power  of  thought,  as  gravitation,  about  which  we  speak  so 
glibly,  baffles  the  scrutiny  of  the  keenest  intellect.  An 
eminent  French  savant  has  well  said  on  this  point,  "We 
know  that  bodies  approach  each  other  in  the  ratio  of 
their  masses,  and  in  inverse  ratio  of  the  square  of  their 
distances;  but  why  do  they  approach  each  other?  This  is 
what  we  do  not  know,  and  what  we  probably  never  shall 
know."  ..."  As  to  the  real  cause  which  makes 
small  bodies  to  rush  toward  greater  ones,  and  the  little 
stars  to  revolve  around  the  larger,  it  is,  we  repeat,  a  mys- 
tery that  cannot  be  penetrated  by  mortals."  And  thus 
science  itself  comes  to  a  standstill  at  the  border-land,  and 
is  incompetent  to  explain  the  wonders  it  proclaims  ;  and 
shall  we  then  for  one  moment  suppose,  when  the  subjects 


TTTE    PHENOMENA    OF    NATURK.  25 

of  inquiry  are  theological,  that  science  will  presume  to 
say  that  the  affirmation  of  mystery  becomes  the  negation 
of  knowledge  ?  If  it  should  do  so,  it  would  simply  invali- 
date its  own  teachings;  for  if  thought-limitations  in  one 
direction  are  held  to  prove  the  certitude  of  incertitude, 
logically  they  must  do  so  in  the  other.  And  thus,  accord- 
ing to  such  reasoning,  Nescience  in  religion  leads  by  a 
logical  necessity  to  Pyrrhonism  in  science.  As  has  been 
said  by  M.  Royer-Collard,  "  we  cannot  assign  a  part  only 
to  skepticism;  as  soon  as  skepticism  once  penetrates  into 
the  understanding,  it  invades  it  throughout." 

Professor  Tyndall  admits  that  the  phenomena  of  matter 
and  force  are  within  our  intellectual  range,  but  denies  that 
by  them  we  can  invade  the  intrenched  secret  of  the  uni- 
verse that  lies  beyond.  If  he  means  that  we  cannot  "  find 
God  out  unto  perfection"  through  the  operations  of  nature, 
we  have  no  controversy  with  him;  but  if  he  means  that  we 
cannot  by  such  endeavors  arrive  at  a  real,  though  partial, 
knowledge  of  the  Divine  existence,  we  modestly  but  ear- 
nestly dissent  from  his  position.  Newton  has  said,  "  It  no 
doubt  belongs  to  natural  philosophy  to  inquire  concerning 
God  from  the  observation  of  phenomena,"  and  there  is  no 
good  reason  for  doubting  the  soundness  of  his  conclusion. 
The  contrary  assumption  is  so  one-sided,  so  destitute  of 
analogy,  so  foreign  to  the  judgment  of  mankind,  creating 
so  wide  and  so  arbitrary  a  distinction  between  the  domain 
of  matter  and  of  mind,  that  it  borders  on  the  irrational. 
Common  sense  argues  that,  as  everyone  admits  we  can 
become  acquainted  with  the  laws  governing  physical  phe- 
nomena by  the  study  of  the  phenomena  themselves,  there 
is  no  sufficient  reason  to  doubt  that  we  can  in  the  same 
manner  arrive  at  certain  reliable  conclusions  regarding  the 
Divine  existence  and  man's  immortality.  The  laws  that 
govern  the  various  operations  of  nature  can  be  known, 
though  they   are   unseen;    and  though  they  may   not   be 


26  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

thoroughly  understood,  our  information  concerning  them 
is  looked  upon  as  absolutely  trustworthy.  But  physical 
phenomena  lead  us  back  to  Cause  as  well  as  to  law,  and 
to  a  Cause  adequate  to  accomplish  what  is  perceived;  and 
as  in  the  phenomena  mind  is  apparent,  we  may  with  the 
same  degree  of  certainty  believe  that  it  is  in  the  Cause  as 
we  believe,  on  precisely  the  same  evidence,  that  law  is,  and 
that  it  answers  to  such  or  such  a  formula.  If  the  reason- 
ing in  the  one  case  is  sound  it  is  in  the  other,  and  if  it  is 
not  in  either,  then  we  are  incapable  of  verifying  anything. 
On  the  one  side,  by  the  knowledge  of  phenomena  we  rise 
to  the  knowledge  of  law;  on  the  other,  by  the  same  means 
we  rise  to  the  knowledge  of  Cause,  and  to  a  Cause  which, 
comprehending  in  itself  potentially  the  complex  and  prac- 
tically measureless  wonders  of  creation,  we  cannot  but  call 
God.  But  if  it  is  said  that  such  a  Being  cannot  be  clearly 
apprehended  or  distinctly  defined,  common  sense  replies 
that  the  limitations  of  mind  account  for  this  comparative 
failure,  but  that  the  inability  is  paralleled  by  the  diffi- 
culty experienced  in  understanding  fully  the  precise  char- 
acter of  a  law,  say  such  as  gravitation,  and  of  formulating 
it  intelligibly.  The  dew-drop  that  faithfully  reflects  the 
sun,  gives  but  a  meager  idea  of  its  majesty.  But  in  addi- 
tion to  this,  common  sense  protests  against  the  exclusive 
attention  to  the  physical  and  the  disregard  for  the  spiritual 
which  Professors  Tyndall  and  Huxley  manifest.  It  insists 
that  the  phenomena  of  soul  are  as  worthy  of  consideration 
as  those  of  matter.  Mind  is  an  essential  part  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  no  system  can  be  sound  which  ignores  it.  If  it 
is  scrutinized  and  catechized,  it  responds  in  no  doubtful 
terms  to  the  reality  of  God  and  the  immortality  of  man. 
On  this  internal  testimony  an  unanswerable  argument  has 
frequently  been  reared.  The  universal  consciousness  is 
against  Agnosticism,  and  the  only  question  in  debate  is 
whether   its    testimony   is    reliable.       Why   should    it    be 


THE  protest  of  reason.  27 

thought  otherwise  ?  If  we  can  with  safety  build  on  the 
physical,  why  not  on  the  psychical  ?  They  are  parts  of  the 
same  system  of  things.  For  all  we  know,  the  latter  may 
even  be  more  trustworthy  than  the  former,  and  unques- 
tionably it  challenges  as  much  attention.  But  if  it  is  not 
to  be  treated  as  a  faithful  witness  when  it  testifies  to 
God's  existence  and  to  man's  immortality,  what  confidence 
can  be  placed  in  any  of  its  processes,  without  which  we 
would  be  unable  to  ascertain  anything,  conceive  or  sub- 
stantiate anything,  either  physical  or  spiritual  ?  It  is  a 
necessity  of  science,  as  well  as  of  religion,  that  the  trust- 
worthiness of  mind  be  admitted.  If  it  is  not,  then  every- 
thing is  uncertain;  if  it  is,  then  its  testimony  to  the  super- 
sensuous,  the  superhuman  and  divine  is  conclusive  and 
unimpeachable. 

We  have  thus  shown  that  science,  fairly  interrogated, 
condemns  the  ism  we  are  reviewing,  and  we  are  now  pre- 
pared to  weigh  what  reason  has  to  suggest  in  the  same 
direction.  The  Agnostic  is  essentially  metaphysical.  His 
stronghold  is  in  cloudland,  and  his  logical  defenses  are  ab- 
stract, involved,  subtle  and  tortuous.  He  speaks  the  lan- 
guage of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Lectures,  of  Dean  Han- 
sel's Limits  of  Religious  Thoughts,  and  of  Herbert 
Spencer's  voluminous  revelations  regarding  the  Unknow- 
able. To  him  the  fundamental  conceptions  of  theology 
are  unthinkable  and  self-destructive,  and  he  triumphantly 
asks,  "How  can  Infinite  Power  be  able  to  do  all  things, 
and  Infinite  Goodness  be  unable  to  do  evil?  How  can 
Infinite  Justice  exact  the  utmost  penalty  for  every  sin, 
and  Infinite  Mercy  pardon  the  sinner?  How  can  Infinite 
Wisdom  know  all  things,  and  Infinite  Freedom  be  at  lib- 
erty to  do  or  to  forbear?  How  is  the  existence  of  evil 
compatible  with  that  of  an  Infinitely  Perfect  Being  ?  For 
if  He  wills  it,  He  is  not  infinitely  good;  and  if  He  wills 
it  not,  His  will  is  thwarted  and  His  sphere  of  action  lim- 


28  ISMS   OLD    AND   NEW. 

ited."  He  further  insists  that  the  Infinite  or  the  Abso- 
lute is  inconceivable:  "There  is  contradiction  in  suppos- 
ing such  an  object  to  exist,  either  alone  or  with  others, 
and  in  supposing  it  not  to  exist;  in  conceiving  it  as  one 
and  as  many,  as  personal  and  as  impersonal,  as  active  and 
as  inactive,  as  the  sum  of  all  existence  and  as  a  part  only 
of  that  sum,"  and,  consequently,  we  find  him  sententiously 
affirming  with  Herbert  Spencer  that  this  is  the  "deepest, 
widest,  and  most  certain  of  all  facts,  that  the  Power  the 
universe  manifests  to  us  is  utterly  inscrutable." 

Reason  is  not  satisfied  with  these  representations,  and 
is  far  from  consenting;  to  the  conclusion.  Following  in 
substance  Mr.  Mill's  line  of  argument,  it  claims  that  while 
we  may  not  have  an  adequate  conception  of  the  Infinite, 
we  may  be  able  to  form  a  very  real  conception,  and  it 
illustrates  this  distinction  by  a  passage  from  Mr.  Mill's 
Examination  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton's  Philosopliy,  in  which 
he  says,  "Let  us  try  the  doctrine  on  a  complex  whole, 
short  of  infinite,  such  as  the  number  005,788.  Sir  W.  H. 
would  not,  I  suppose,  maintain  that  this  number  is  incon- 
ceivable. How  long  does  he  think  it  would  take  to  go 
over  every  separate  unit  of  this  whole,  so  as  to  obtain  a 
perfect  knowledge  of  that  exact  sum,  as  different  from 
all  others,  greater  or  less  ?  Would  he  say  that  we  can 
have  no  conception  of  the  sum  till  this  process  is  gone 
through  ?  We  could  not,  indeed,  have  an  adequate  con- 
ception. Accordingly,  we  never  have  an  adequate  concep- 
tion of  any  real  thing.  But  we  have  a  real  conception,  if 
we  can  conceive  it  by  any  of  its  attributes  which  are  suffi- 
cient to  distinguish  it  from  all  other  things.  ...  If,  then, 
we  can  obtain  a  real  conception  of  a  finite  whole,  without 
going  through  all  its  component  parts,  why  deny  us  the 
conception  of  an  infinite  whole  because  to  go  through 
them  all  is  impossible  ?  .  .  .  Between  a  conception  which, 
though    inadequate,  is   real   as    far   as    it   goes,  and    the 


KNOWING   THE   INFINITE.  29 

impossibility  of  any  conception,  there  is  a  wide  differ- 
ence." Moreover,  reason  discerns  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
Unknowable  a  grave  inconsistency.  Having  expressly 
denied  that  the  Infinite  can  be  a  subject  of  thought,  it 
goes  to  work  to  show  why  it  is  unthinkable,  and  in  doing 
so  it  quietly  assumes  certain  things  to  be  true  of  it  which, 
according  to  its  principal  proposition,  it  has  no  possible 
means  of  verifying.  If  the  Infinite  is  unknowable,  how 
can  the  Agnostic  prove  that  this  or  that  idea  is  inhar- 
monious with  it  ?  As  it  is,  he  proceeds  on  the  supposition 
that  he  knows  it  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  the  evidence 
that  it  is  unknowable. 

Mr.  Mill  has  clearly  brought  out  the  fact  that  the  Ag- 
nostic conjures  up  "a  conception  of  something  which 
possesses  infinitely  all  conflicting  attributes,"  and  be- 
cause this  cannot  be  done  without  contradiction,  "he 
would  have  us  believe  that  there  is  contradiction  in  the 
idea  of  Infinite  Goodness  or  Infinite  Wisdom,"  on  which 
piece  of  metaphysical  insincerity  Mr.  Mill  comments  in 
these  terms:  "Instead  of  'the  Infinite'  substitute  an  'In- 
finitely Good  Being,'  and  the  argument  reads  thus:  If 
there  is  anything  which  an  infinitely  good  Being  cannot 
become,  if  He  cannot  become  bad,  there  is  a  limitation, 
and  the  goodness  cannot  be  infinite.  If  there  is  anything 
which  He  is,  namely,  good,  He  is  excluded  from  being  any 
other  thing,  as  from  being  wise  or  powerful."  Having 
pointed  out  these  absurdities  he  declares  that  these  con- 
tradictions are  not  involved  in  the  notion  of  the  Infinite, 
"but  lie  in  the  definitions,"  definitions  which  have  been 
expressly  manufactured  for  the  sole  purpose  of  proving 
that  nothing  can  be  known  of  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  the 
universe.  But  after  all  that  has  been  done  in  this  direc- 
tion success  has  not  followed,  for,  as  Professor  Birks  has 
exhaustively  shown  in  his  admirable  treatise  on  Physical 
Fatalism,  a   work    to   which    I   gladly  acknowledge    my 


30  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

indebtedness,  the  very  terms  employed  to  express  the  un- 
knowableness  of  the  unknown  convey  an  important  and 
large  amount  of  knowledge.  Thus  from  the  various 
ideas  and  positions  of  its  advocates,  already  quoted,  we 
learn  that  God  is  absolute  not  derived,  infinite  not 
finite,  manifest  in  nature  not  hidden,  distinct  from  His 
works  not  identified  with  them,  omnipotent  not  impo- 
tent, and  One  not  manifold.  This  is  a  good  deal  of  in- 
formation for  a  theory,  which  sets  out  to  demonstrate 
that  the  Almighty  is  absolutely  inscrutable,  to  afford  hu- 
manity struggling  to  obtain  light.  We  really  are  in- 
debted. By  these  concessions,  involved  in  the  mazy  and 
hazy  statements  of  the  Agnostic,  reason  perceives  that  his 
doctrine  is  untenable,  and  that  he  is  confirming,  though 
unwillingly,  the  positive  declaration  of  Paul  :  "  For  the 
invisible  things  of  Him  from  the  creation  of  the  world 
are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  the  things  that  are 
made,  even  His  eternal  power  and  Godhead." 

But  if  reason  refutes,  experience  contradicts  Agnosti- 
cism. When  its  supporters  assert  that  nothing  spiritual 
can  be  known,  they  are  merely  judging  mankind  by  them- 
selves. Because  they  themselves  are  in  the  gulf  of  night, 
they  conclude  that  everybody  is  in  the  same  unhappy  con- 
dition. But  if  a  few  persons  living  inland  should  contend 
that  the  ocean  does  not  exist  because  they  have  not  seen 
it,  would  we  be  willing  to  allow  that  it  is  unseeable,  espe- 
cially when  thousands  testify  that  their  eyes  have  rested 
on  its  grandeur?  No;  we  would  answer  that  the  pri- 
vation of  some  cannot  be  weighed  against  the  positive 
observation  of  others.  Though  a  hundred  persons  should 
deny  that  President  Lincoln  was  assassinated  because  they 
were  not  present  to  witness  the  tragical  event,  the  testi- 
mony of  half  a  dozen  who  were  on  the  spot  would  be 
sufficient  to  prove  its  occurrence.  Well,  all  the  Agnostics 
in  the  world  cannot  invalidate  the  experience  of  a  few 


THE    EVIDENCE    OF    EXPERIENCE.  31 

Christians.  All  they  can  say  is  that  they  do  not  know, 
and  that  is  worthless  by  the  side  of  the  "  I  do  know " 
of  Christ's  disciples.  His  followers  have  communed  with 
God,  have  conversed  with  him.  They  have  realized  the 
grandeur  of  responsibility,  the  awfulness  of  sin,  and  the 
sweetness  of  pardon,  and  they  can  therefore  speak  with 
authority.  If  it  shall  be  said  that  they  are  self-deceived, 
then  we  are  modestly  asked  to  believe  that  all  the  world 
is  deluded,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  individuals  who 
are  evidently  infatuated  with  the  charms  of  ignorance. 
But  is  this  reasonable  ?  Why  may  not  the  few  be 
deceived  by  their  prejudices  instead  of  the  many  be  duped 
by  their  fancies?  We  do  not  deny  that  what  we  have 
felt  may  be  but  as  the  shadows  described  in  Plato's  lle- 
2)ubllc,  which  were  seen  by  the  captives  in  the  subter- 
ranean cave  when  their  back  was  turned  toward  the  light, 
but  shadows  are  ever  cast  by  substantial  objects,  and 
proclaim  reality.  The  reflection  of  the  mountains  in  the 
water  attests  their  existence  and  their  vastness,  and 
thus  our  experiences,  though  but  as  faint  images  of 
the  Infinite,  of  eternity,  of  immortality,  witness  to  sub- 
lime and  imperishable  correspondences.  But  there  is 
another  answer  to  this  supposition.  As  has  been  elab- 
orately stated  by  a  New  England  author,  religious  truth 
is  not  above  experiment.  If  you  would  know  for  your- 
self whether  there  is  a  God,  or  whether  He  can  be  com- 
muned with,  and  whether  He  can  come  into  the  soul, 
comply  with  the  conditions  revealed  in  the  Bible,  and 
you  shall  have  the  evidence  in  yourselves.  Put  away 
wrong  doing,  call  upon  God's  name,  beseech  Him  to 
verify  His  own  being  and  your  own  immortality,  sin- 
cerely desire  to  discover  the  truth,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
but  that  the  answer  will  be  such  that  you  and  Agnos- 
ticism will  part  company  forever.  Dr.  Walker,  in  the 
Observer,  eloquently  points  out  the  grounds  of  this  duty, 


32  ISMS   OLD    A.ND   NEW. 

and  enforces  it  in  a  manner  so  masterly  that  I  cannot  re- 
frain from  quoting  his  words.     He  says: 

"Man  finds  himself  with  a  religious  nature,  the  spon- 
taneous and  normal  exercise  of  which  is  reverence,  adora- 
tion, obedience  to  a  Power  above  himself.  Here  are  sub- 
jective conditions,  which  imply  objective  truths  corre- 
sponding. As  is  the  case  with  all  other  parts  of  his 
nature,  these  are  not  purposeless.  They  prompt  to  the 
investigation  of  that  which  they  demand  and  to  which 
they  are  related, —  truths  about  God,  in  the  universe  of 
mind  and  of  matter,  discovered,  certified,  reduced  to  sys- 
tem, rendered  into  theology.  These  truths  are  those  of 
the  Divine  personality,  His  character,  His  dealings  espe- 
cially with  man,  endowed  with  a  nature  which  craves  to 
know  and  honor  Him.  Why  should  man  refuse  to  seek 
Him  here  as  well  as  elsewhere?  Is  it  the  really  scientific 
spirit  which  dictates  such  a  course?  Is  it  not  mere  ca- 
price not  only  to  decline  investigation  of  these  phe- 
nomena objective  to  the  religious  nature,  and  demanded 
by  it,  but  to  insist  beforehand  that  such  investigation,  if 
made,  is  not  and  cannot  be  scientific?  Such  course,  in 
reference  to  anything  but  religious  truth,  would  not  for 
an  instant  be  tolerated.  But  here  we  are  met  by  the 
objection  of  mystery.  What  is  its  pertinence?  It  is 
never  offered  in  connection  with  other  sciences.  They  all 
involve  mystery,  rest  upon  it,  and  are  surrounded  by  it. 
What  is  matter?  What  is  life?  What  is  mind?  What 
is  spirit?  ' Omnia  exeunt  in  mysterium?  No  one,  on  the 
score  of  mystery,  declines  scientific  investigation,  or  de- 
nies its  possibility  in  any  of  these  spheres  of  knowledge. 
It  is  only  as  men  see  or  fear  that  they  will  encounter 
God  in  His  claims,  that  such  objections  are  offered.  They 
do  not  like  to  retain  God  in  their  knowledge,  and  thus 
their  effort  is  to  make  out  that  He  cannot  be  known." 

The  allusion  to  the  Bible  in  the  foregoing  paragraph 


THE    BIBLE.  33 

leads  us  naturally  to  our  next  position.  Revelation  re- 
jects in  toto  the  senseless  theory  of  religious  Nihilism. 
Suppose  that  we  concede  to  the  Agnostic  that  the  limita- 
tions of  thought  are  such  that  it  is  impossible  for  man  to 
arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  God  or  of  his  own  destiny, 
does  that  preclude  the  possibility  of  its  coming  to  him 
in  some  other  way?  May  not  that  which  is  undiscoverable 
be  revealed  ?  Or,  in  other  words,  if  man's  capacity  is  as 
narrow  and  weak  as  Agnosticism  claims,  does  it  prove  the 
unattainableness  of  religious  knowledge,  or  does  it  mere- 
ly indicate  that  an  inspired  Revelation  is  indispensable? 
Certainly  it  can  never  establish  the  former  as  long  as  the 
latter  is  possible.  And  that  it  is  possible  the  belief  of 
many  millions  that  it  is  actual  abundantly  sustains. 
Everywhere  we  hear  of  sacred  books,  attributed  to  divine 
interposition,  and  whether  only  one  is  true,  or  all  are  alike 
false,  they  express  the  common  conviction  that  the  Al- 
mighty can  communicate  with  His  creatures.  The  ideas 
which  fill  mind  and  heart  regarding  the  Supreme,  the  na- 
ture of  obligation,  and  the  eternity  of  the  soul,  may  have 
been  derived  from  this  source  by  immediate  and  personal 
illumination,  or  by  the  inspired  enlightenment  of  chosen 
men.  We  know,  however,  that  the  ideas  are  here;  how 
they  came  may  be  open  to  debate,  but  that  they  have  not 
been  received  from  God  is  beyond  the  power  of  man  to 
prove.  Whether  any  existing  revelation  is  in  reality  of 
Divine  origin  cannot  be  discussed  here,  nor  is  it  needful, 
for  our  present  aim  is  simply  to  show  that,  though  man's 
resources  be  inadequate  to  meet  his  spiritual  necessities, 
it  cannot  with  reason  be  affirmed  that  religious  knowledge 
is  beyond  his  reach  when  it  may  be  received  from  above. 
Agnosticism  at  the  worst  only  establishes  the  necessity 
for  a  heavenly  revelation,  and  the  more  fully  it  makes 
manifest  our  helplessness  the  more  clearly  it  brings  out 
the  probability  that  it  has  been  conferred.  For  if  we 
3 


34  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

are  thus  incapable,  and  if  we  feel  so  deep  a  yearning  for 
light  —  and  that  we  do  no  one  can  deny  —  that  we  are 
led  to  seek  it  by  a  native  impulse,  our  highest  welfare 
must  be  interwoven  with  it,  and  just  in  proportion  as 
this  is  true  must  the  probability  be  increased  that  the 
Being  who  has  provided  so  liberally  for  all  our  other 
wants  has  not  forgotten  to  bestow  this  last  and  indis- 
pensable boon. 

Herbert  Spencer,  in  his  Philosophy ',  expresses  the  opin- 
ion "  that  the  knowledge  within  our  reach  is  the  only 
knowledge  that  can  be  of  service  to  us";  and  it  seems  to 
me  the  right  word  to  say  in  this  connection,  for  in  judg- 
ing the  claims  of  any  sacred  book  we  should  examine 
whether  its  teachings  are  especially  available  for  the  moral 
exigencies  of  life,  or  whether  they  are  fitted  merely  to 
gratify  a  prurient  curiosity.  The  ship-master  does  not 
need  accurate  views  regarding  the  origin  or  formation  of 
the  universe  to  safely  navigate  a  vessel  across  stormy  seas. 
Professional  practicalities  are  of  more  importance  to  him. 
If  he  knows  the  tides,  their  strength  and  their  seasons;  if 
he  is  instructed  in  the  use  of  the  compass,  its  deflections 
and  variations;  if  he  understands  taking  the  sun,  and  even 
how  to  steer  without  it,  and  if  he  is  familiar  with  the  capa- 
bilities of  his  ship,  his  ignorance  of  the  true  cosmogony 
would  not  disqualify  him  for  command.  The  mason 
builds  without  knowing  the  plan  of  the  architect,  the  sol- 
dier fights  without  inquiring  into  the  designs  of  the  gen- 
eral, the  laborer  in  the  factory  pursues  his  task  on  the 
ninth  part  of  a  pin,  and  never  pauses  to  investigate  his 
brothers'  work,  or  to  demand  from  his  employer  a  detailed 
account  of  the  contracts  which  he  is  fulfilling.  We  all 
thus  work  on  partial  knowledge,  and  work  efficiently. 
Thorough  and  exhaustive  comprehension  of  everything 
connected  with  our  daily  callings  none  of  us  have,  and 
neither  is  it  necessary  to  success.     It  seems,  then,  reason- 


SUFFICIENT   LIGHT.  35 

able  to  infer  that  a  Revelation  from  God  would  deal  more 
directly  with  the  moral  and  spiritual  practicalities  than  in 
elaborate  expositions  of  deep  truths,  which,  however  glo- 
rious in  themselves,  would  be  comparatively  of  secondary 
value  in  their  bearing  upon  life.  And  this  is  precisely  the 
principle  which  determines  the  character  of  the  sacred 
Scriptures.  While  they  announce  abysmal  mysteries,  they 
leave  them  mysteries;  and  partly,  perhaps,  because  the 
intellect  could  not  grasp  their  clearest  elucidation  now, 
and  partly  because  another  class  of  truths  is  of  more  im- 
mediate service,  they  devote  a  large  portion  of  their  con- 
tents to  such  matters  as  lead  to  human  regeneration, 
elevation  and  salvation.  Upon  such  points  they  are  ade- 
quate and  complete.  We,  therefore,  have  in  these  inspired 
writings  all  the  knowledge  necessary  both  for  life  and 
godliness.  We  have  enough  both  for  faith  and  practice, 
and  unless  we  are  prepared  to  ignore  the  probabilities 
which  so  strongly  point  to  the  reasonableness  of  a  super- 
natural revelation,  we  need  not  inhabit  tombs  nor  grope 
in  darkness,  and  despairingly  cry  that  we  know  not  our 
duty  either  to  God  or  man.  Here  it  is  made  manifest, 
and  made  manifest  in  such  a  way  that  it  is  unobscured 
and  unaffected  by  the  unexplorable  truths  with  which  it 
is  associated.  Though  clouds  and  darkness  still  enshroud 
God's  throne,  sufficient  light  has  fallen  on  our  path  to 
make  clear  the  road  to  heaven.  There  is  no  position  we 
occupy,  no  relationship  we  sustain,  no  serious  issue  we 
have  to  meet,  concerning  which  we  may  not,  if  we  will, 
obtain  the  fullest  information;  neither  is  there  any  honest 
doubt,  springing  from  a  troubled  conscience,  that  has  not 
its  antidote  in  the  affluent  provisions  of  Divine  grace.  If 
you  would  know  how  to  approach  and  honor  your  Crea- 
tor; if  you  would  realize  the  claims  of  Christ  upon  your 
faith  and  love;  if  you  would  learn  how  to  fulfill  your  obli- 
gations  as  parent,   child,   citizen,   or  friend,   and  if  you 


36  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

would  understand  how  to  live  and  die  triumphantly,  you 
have  but  to  consult  the  sacred  volume,  whose  pages  glow 
with  simplest  wisdom  and  with  safest  counsels.  The 
Bible  may  be  reticent  where  you  would  be  pleased  to 
have  it  voluble,  it  may  be  tongueless  where  you  would 
have  it  eloquent,  and  obscure  where  you  would  have  it 
clear;  but  though  it  may  conceal  many  things  from  your 
too  curious  eyes,  and  refuse  to  lay  bare  either  the  secrets 
of  a  past  or  of  a  future  eternity,  what  reason  have  you  for 
complaint  if  it  has  made  manifest  the  range  and  scope  of 
present  duty?  This  much  at  least  it  has  done;  and  for 
the  way  in  which  you  deal  with  the  Heaven-given  light  — 
call  it  twilight  if  you  will  —  which  it  has  shed  upon  your 
path,  will  you  have  to  render  an  account  to  God,  not  for 
the  darkness  which  it  has  left  undisturbed,  and  which  all 
your  intellectual  power  never  can  dispel. 

Finally,  morality  discredits  Agnosticism;  for  its  inter- 
ests are  jeopardized  by  a  doctrine  that  condemns  mankind 
to  total  ignorance  on  matters  of  individual  and  social 
obligation,  and  forbids  them  to  recognize  a  moral  gov- 
ernor of  the  world.  On  this  point  Mr.  Mill,  in  the  work 
already  alluded  to,  testifies,  and  certainly  he  is  no  par- 
tial witness:  "My  opinion  of  this  doctrine  (namely,  that 
nothing  can  be  known  or  understood  of  moral  attributes 
in  a  Supreme  Being),  in  whatever  way  presented,  is  that 
it  is  simply  the  most  morally  pernicious  doctrine  now 
current,  and  that  the  question  it  involves  is,  beyond  all 
others  which  now  engage  speculative  minds,  the  decisive 
one  between  good  and  evil  for  the  Christian  world."  This 
can  easily  be  demonstrated  by  the  effect  of  this  Ism  on 
society.  When  it  declares  religious  knowledge  to  be 
unattainable,  it,  of  course,  anticipates  the  formation  of 
communities  where  it  will  be  entirely  ignored.  Absolute 
secularism  is  already  recommended,  and  the  extract  quoted 
from  Mr.   Huxley  places  him  on  the   side  of  those  who 


SECULARISM.  37 

deem  it  desirable.  He  would  have  us  care  for  our  fellow- 
beings,  would  have  us  try  to  alleviate  their  sorrows,  and 
diminish  their  ignorance.  But  it  is  legitimate  to  ask  by 
what  motives  shall  philanthropy  be  sustained  and  inspired 
when  Agnosticism  triumphs  ?  It  will  then  be  impossible  to 
prove  that  it  is  even  a  duty,  and  will  be  beyond  the  ability 
of  man  to  show  that  it  would  not,  on  the  whole,  be  better 
just  to  let  the  unfortunate  classes  perish  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible. Carried  to  its  logical  consequences,  this  theory  does 
not  even  offer  any  encouragement  to  education ;  for  why, 
if  there  is  no  divine  law  imposing  such  obligation  on  us, 
should  we  trouble  ourselves  about  others  at  all,  and  why 
lavish  so  much  care  on  those  who  cannot  make  much  prog- 
ress in  this  life,  and  who  can  never  reap  any  benefit  from 
it  in  a  life  to  come  ?  Proposals  to  organize  society  on  a 
Godless  basis  have  always  been  looked  on  with  suspicion, 
and  indeed  every  effort  in  that  direction  has  been  fraught 
with  evil.  It  has  been  proven,  where  the  attempt  has  been 
made,  that  it  is  impossible  to  foster  reverence  for  law,  to 
cultivate  a  due  sense  of  responsibility,  to  conserve  safety, 
and  property,  and  to  promote  purity  and  peace,  apart  from 
the  recognition  of  the  Almighty,  His  supremacy,  and 
man's  immortality.  Many  infidels  have  recognized  this, 
and  among  them  one  whom  we  would  least  suspect  of 
entertaining  such  sentiments.  Thomas  Paine  has  left  on 
record  his  conviction  that  stable  and  wholesome  govern- 
ment must  rest  on  Divine  truth.  When,  in  his  book  enti- 
tled Common  /Sense,  he  is  answering  those  who  expected 
the  speedy  destruction  of  order  in  these  States  because 
monarchy  was  overthrown,  he  says:  "  Let  a  day  be  sol- 
emnly set  apart  for  proclaiming  the  charter  ;  let  it  be 
brought  forth,  placed  on  the  Divine  law,  the  Word  of 
God;  let  a  crown  be  placed  thereon,  by  which  the  world 
may  know  that  so  far  as  we  approve  of  monarchy,  that  in 
America  the  Law  is  king."     [P.   47.]     That  is,  human 


38  ISMS   OLD    AND    NEW. 

law  must  rest  on  the  Divine  for  it  to  be  clothed  with 
authority  and  secure  to  the  citizen  the  blessings  of  good 
government.  But  this  foundation  Agnosticism  sweeps 
away,  and  we  therefore  feel  warranted  in  concluding  that 
it  must  be  radically  defective  and  undeserving  of  confi- 
dence.    And  here  ends  my  argument. 

Man's  mind  is  limited,  but  it  is  not  powerless;  it  has 
its  zenith  and  its  nadir,  but  its  periphery  is  neither 
meager  nor  contracted;  it  is  circumscribed  in  its  range, 
but  it  is  neither  wingless  nor  footless.  It  may  not  be 
able  to  circumnavigate  infinity,  nor  "gaze  on  creation's 
last  boundary  stone,"  but  it  can  sail  on  its  seas  and 
know  that  its  floods  stretch  limitless  around.  It  may  not 
be  able  to  fathom  the  abyss  of  mystery  that  there  is  in  an 
atom,  nor  lay  bare  the  secret  hidden  in  the  humblest 
seed;  but  it  can  measure  them  both,  and  know  in  part,  if 
not  altogether.  With  becoming  modesty  may  it  acknowl- 
edge its  inability  to  comprehend  the  Author  of  its  being, 
or  to  find  out  His  plans  and  purposes  to  perfection ;  but 
though  it  confess  that  it  cannot  do  everything,  it  would 
be  absurd  to  assume  that  it  cannot  do  anything.  It  can 
know  God,  and  learn  of  God,  though  it  has  no  terms  by 
which  to  explain  Him;  it  can  think  of  Him  as  Absolute,  as 
Infinite,  as  Personal,  while  it  may  never  in  this  life  be  able 
to  fathom  the  full  meaning  of  these  sublime  ideas.  At 
present  the  mind  has  sufficient  capacity  to  know  the  Cre- 
ator, that  He  is,  what  —  in  part  at  least  —  He  is,  what  He 
commands  and  what  He  reveals.  Sufficient  for  present 
duties,  present  hopes,  whether  for  time  or  eternity,  can  be 
acquired.  And  happy  the  man  who  improves  the  light  he 
has.  By  and  by,  in  the  world  to  come,  the  veil  on  the 
mind  shall  be  rent,  the  channels  of  thought  be  widened 
and  deepened,  and  the  soul's  pinions  be  immeasurably 
strengthened,  and  then  shall  man  comprehend  the  height, 


dryden's  gratitude.  39 

depth  and  breadth  of  that  which  here  and  now  passeth 
understanding. 

"O  gracious  God!  how  well  dost  Thou  provide 

For  erring  judgments  an  unerring  guide! 

Thy  throne  is  darkness  in  the  abyss  of  night, 

A  blaze  of  glory  that  forbids  the  sight. 

Oh,  teach  me  to  believe  Thee  thus  concealed, 

And  search  no  further  than  Thyself  revealed; 

But  her  alone  for  my  director  take 

Whom  Thou  hast  promised  never  to  forsake ! 
•  My  thoughtless  youth  was  winged  with  vain  desires ; 

My  manhood,  long  misled  by  wandering  tires, 

Followed  false  lights,  and  when  their  glimpse  was  gone 

My  pride  struck  out  new  sparkles  of  her  own. 

Such  was  I,  such  by  nature  still  I  am ; 

Be  Thine  the  glory  and  be  mine  the  shame! 

Good  life  be  now  my  task ;  my  doubts  are  done." 


ATHEISM. 

"  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth."  Gen.  i,  1. 

"  Heaven's  unnumbered  host, 
Though  multiplied  by  myriads,  and  arrayed 
In  that  glory  of  sublimest  thought, 
Is  but  an  atom  in  the  balance  weighed 
Against  Thy  greatness  —  is  a  cypher  brought 
Against  infinity! 

I  am,  O  God,  and  surely  Thou  must  be ! 
Thou  art!  —  directing,  guiding  all,  Thou  art! 
Direct  my  understanding,  then,  to  Thee; 
Control  my  spirit,  guide  my  wandering  heart." 

Russian  Ode,  by  Derzhavm. 

THE  way-worn  traveler  will  gladly  drink  from  the  cool, 
clear,  sparkling  torrent  that  breaks  from  lofty  and  sol- 
itary rocky  fastnesses,  and  rolls  tumultuously  over  somber 
precipice  and  along  jagged  channel  to  the  dusty  plains, 
though  its  source  may  be  hidden  from  his  curious  eyes, 
and  forever  remain  inaccessible  to  his  adventurous  feet; 
and  truth's  mountain-stream  should  ever  be  as  welcome  to 
earth's  weary  thinkers,  however  hidden  its  springs  may  be 
in  heights  unapproachable,  and  in  depths  unfathomable. 

If  venerable  tradition,  chronicled  by  the  Koran,  re- 
peated by  Stanley,  and  rehearsed  by  Clodd,  is  to  be 
credited,  thus  was  truth, —  the  grandest,  mightiest,  and 
most  mysterious, —  welcomed  by  Him  who  is  honored  by 
Moslem,  Jew  and  Christian  as  the  Father  of  the  Faithful. 
Born  in  Ur  of  the  Chaldees,  on  the  verge  of  the  vast 
Assyrian  plains,  which  for  ages  had  been  the  seat  of  idol- 
atrous sun-worship,  Abraham  turned  from  a  system,  cus- 
tom-sanctioned   and    convention-hallowed,    to    embrace    a 

40 


AN    ABRAHAMIC    LEGEND.  41 

simpler  and  a  purer  faith.  The  mythical  story  of  his  con- 
version is  not  without  beauty  and  instructiveness.  It 
represents  Terah,  his  father,  as  a  maker  of  wooden  idols; 
and  shows  how  the  son's  antagonism  to  the  corruption  of 
religion,  which  the  business  symbolized,  developed  and 
culminated.  Being  left  one  day  in  charge  of  the  stock 
in  trade,  Abraham  was  profoundly  impressed  at  the  folly 
and  superstition  of  a  woman,  who  devoutly  brought  food 
to  satisfy  the  hunger  of  things  which,  though  they  had 
mouths,  could  not  eat,  and  which  were  as  unable  to  appre- 
ciate gifts  as  they  were  to  appropriate  them.  But  his  in- 
dignation grew  fiercer,  and  his  views  of  duty  clearer,  when 
an  aged  man  entered  his  tent  and  desired  to  purchase  of 
his  wares. 

"How  old  art  thou?" 

"Threescore  years." 

"What,  threescore  years!"  answered  Abraham,  "and 
thou  wouldst  worship  a  thing  that  my  father's  slaves  made 
in  a  few  hours?  Strange  that  a  man  of  sixty  should  bow 
his  gray  head  to  a  creature  such  as  that." 

Unable  longer  to  restrain  his  scorn,  and  reason  asserting 
its  sovereignty  over  conflicting  doubts,  after  the  departure 
of  his  would-be  customer  he  broke  all  the  idols  to  pieces 
except  one.  The  largest  one  he  spared,  and  placed  in  its 
hands  the  hammer  which  had  served  him  in  his  icono- 
clasm.  When  Terah  returned  he  was  filled  with  horror  and 
consternation  at  the  work  of  destruction  which  he  beheld, 
and  angrily  demanded  the  name  of  the  irreverent  wretch 
who  had  dared  to  raise  his  impious  arm  against  the  gods. 

"Why,"  quietly  replied  the  then  youthful  patriarch, 
"during  thine  absence  a  woman  brought  them  food,  and 
the  younger  and  smaller  ones  immediately  began  to  eat. 
The  older  and  stronger  god,  enraged  at  their  unmannerly 
boldness,  took  the  hammer  which  you  see  in  his  hands,  and 
crushed  them  all  before  him." 


42  ISMS    OLD    AND    KEWo 

"Dost  thou  deride  thine  aged  father?"  cried  Terah. 
"  Do  I  not  know  that  they  can  neither  move  nor  eat  ?  " 

"And  yet  thou  worshipest  them,"  exclaimed  Abraham; 
"and  thou  wouldst  have  me  worship  them  as  well." 

This  rebuke  was  too  much  for  the  outraged  parent,  and 
consequently,  according  to  the  legend,  he  sent  the  way- 
ward youth  to  the  king  for  admonition  and  correction. 
When  Nimrod  heard  the  account  of  his  infidelity  and 
impiety,  instead  of  condemning  him  hastily  and  harshly 
he  sought  to  win  him  to  some  form  of  faith. 

"If  thou  canst  not  adore  the  idols  fashioned  by  thy 
father,"  said  the  accommodating  monarch,  "then  pray  to 
fire." 

"Why  not  to  water,  which  will  quench  the  fire?" 

"Be  it  so  ;  pray  to  water." 

"But  why  not  to  the  clouds  which  hold  the  water?" 

"Well,  then,  pray  to  the  clouds." 

"  Why  not  to  the  winds,  which  drive  the  clouds  before 
them?" 

"Certainly,  please  yourself;  pray  to  the  winds." 

"Be  not  angry,  O  king!"  finally  replied  Abraham.  "I 
cannot  pray  to  the  fire,  or  the  water,  or  the  clouds,  or  the 
winds,  but  to  the  Creator  who  made  them :  Him  only  will 
I  worship."  Neither  would  he  be  persuaded  to  adore  the 
sun,  moon  and  stars,  for  he  discerned  that  they  were  not 
stationary,  and  he  said,  as  he  contemplated  the  heavens, 
"I  like  not  things  that  set;  these  glittering  orbs  are  not 
gods,  as  they  are  subject  to  law:  I  will  worship  Him  only 
whose  law  they  obey." 

Science  is  the  modern  Terah.  In  these  days  it  is  ener- 
getically reviving  idol-making,  a  trade  which  by  this  time 
ought  to  be  hopelessly  insolvent.  The  chief  workmen  who 
seem  to  be  interested  in  this  enterprise  are  Comte,  Haeckel, 
Darwin,  Vogt,  Huxley  and  Spencer,  and  the  gods  they 
have  thus  far  manufactured  are  variously  called  "Proto- 


THE    NEW    IDOLATRY.  43 

plasm,"  "Evolution,"  "Primitive  Fire-Mist,"  "Promise 
and  Potency  Theory,"  and  "  Creation  by  Law  Hypothesis." 
In  these  thought-idols  a  thriving  business  is  being  driven, 
and,  as  in  the  case  of  the  foolish  woman  and  the  venerable 
man  in  the  Abrahamic  legend,  many  souls  are  substitut- 
ing them  in  the  place  of  the  one  ever-living  and  true  God. 
They  who  have  shaped  these  little  mechanical  deities,  and 
who  expose  them  to  public  view,  do  not  assert  that  there 
may  not  be  above  them  or  behind  them  Something  or 
Somebody  to  the  mind  unknown  and  unknowable,  but 
they  do  assume  that  they  are  all-sufficient  to  account  for 
the  origin  and  order  of  the  universe,  without  invoking  the 
interposition  of  any  hyperphysical  or  supernatural  agen- 
cies or  Agent.  It  is  evident  that  the  drift  of  such  specu- 
lations is  in  the  direction  of  Atheism;  for  when  every 
reference  to  the  Almighty  is  sneered  at  as  unscientific, 
when  He  is  practically  ruled  out  of  His  own  creation,  and 
when  second  causes  are  invested  with  His  attributes  and 
credited  with  His  work,  the  denial  of  His  existence  is 
logically  demanded  and  cannot  be  long  postponed.  A 
superfluous  Deity  is  the  next  thing  to  an  imaginary  Deity; 
to  deprive  Him  of  usefulness  is  to  rob  Him  of  being;  to 
say  that  He  does  not  is  substantially  to  say  that  He  is 
not.  This  is  just  the  impression  the  new  Terah  is  mak- 
ing on  society,  and  the  hammer  of  Abraham  is  needed 
to  destroy  the  false  gods  that  hide  from  the  creature  the 
reality  and  nearness  of  the  Creator.  Multiplied  voices, 
like  his,  are  demanded  to  denounce  the  fetich-worship 
developing  from  modern  thought,  and  to  point  out  the 
absurdity  of  scientific  Nimrods  reaffirming  what  Descartes 
has  long  since  disproved,  that  dynamical  force  inheres 
in  matter,  or  that  law,  which  at  the  best  is  only  a  formula, 
can  of  itself  enact  itself,  and  from  itself  evolve  a  universe. 
The  advocates  of  undisguised  and  absolute  Atheism, 
and  the  idol-makers  who  sympathize  with  them,  are  more  or 


44  ISMS   OLD    AND    NEW. 

less  agreed  in  maintaining  certain  propositions  on  the  truth 
or  falseness  of  which  rests  the  decision  of  the  grave  ques- 
tion in  debate.  If  the  propositions  referred  to  cannot  be 
sustained,  Atheism  is  without  even  the  shadow  of  a  foun- 
dation; if  they  can,  then  to  say  the  least  the  cause  of 
theism  is  seriously  compromised,  if  not  imperiled.  It  is 
assumed : 

First,  That  the  idea  of  God  is  explicable  without 
God. 

Second,  That  the  origin  of  nature  is  comprehensible 
without  God. 

Third,  That  the  existence  of  religion  is  possible  with- 
out God. 

Fourth,  That  the  elevation  of  humanity  is  practicable 
without  God. 

These  propositions,  in  my  honest  judgment,  are  unten- 
able; most  sincerely  I  condemn  them,  and  confidently  be- 
lieve that  their  rejection  can  be  justified. 

Evolution,  as  taught  by  its  greatest  philosopher,  Her- 
bert Spencer,  is  regarded  as  adequate  to  account  for  intel- 
lectual and  social  advancement,  as  well  as  for  physical  de- 
velopment. Everything,  it  is  claimed,  that  we  think  or 
feel,  as  well  as  everything  we  see  or  touch,  has  been 
evolved  from  lower  and  simpler  forms  or  states.  And 
thus,  it  is  argued,  the  idea  of  God  originated,  and  has 
slowly  passed  through  many  intermediate  stages  of  growth 
toward  grace  and  beauty.  It  is  assumed  that  fetich- 
worship  prevailed  at  the  beginning;  that  this  was  subse- 
quently refined  into  polytheism;  and  that  this  in  its  turn 
gradually  gave  way  to  theism;  and  that  since  the  triumph 
of  monotheism  the  character  of  the  ideal,  exalted  to 
supreme  sovereignty,  has  unceasingly  improved  and  broad- 
ened. Primary  and  necessary  belief  in  God's  existence  is 
denied,  a  primeval  and  supernatural  attestation  of  this  be- 
lief is  discredited,  and  its  beginnings  are  traced  to  human 


THE    EVOLUTION    OF    DEITY.  45 

fear  mingled  with  superstition.  This  notion  runs  through 
the  poem  of  Lucretius;  it  is  countenanced  by  Hume;  it 
is  expressed  by  Dupuis  in  the  words  "the  gods  are  the 
children  of  men,"  and  it  is  formulated  and  maintained  by 
Comte. 

Of  course  that  which  had  so  questionable  an  origin,  in 
the  advancing  light  of  science  cannot  hope  to  maintain 
its  authority.  The  luminous  meteor,  whose  radiance  broke 
through  the  night  of  ignorance,  must  inevitably  be  eclipsed 
by  the  sun  of  knowledge.  As  the  idea  of  God,  according 
to  this  theory,  was  first  invented,  or  conjured  up,  to  explain 
the  universe,  just  in  proportion  as  that  can  be  accounted 
for,  apart  from  Him,  must  confidence  in  His  existence 
be  diminished.  And  thus  the  natural  bourne  of  Evolution 
is  Atheism;  and  no  God,  the  ultimate  faith,  or  no-faith, 
of  the  world. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  a  color  of  truth  tints  this 
mass  of  assumption,  but  the  color  is  exceedingly  faint. 
We  admit  that  the  conception  of  Deity  has  grown  with 
the  elevation  and  enlightenment  of  mankind.  That  it 
has  been  freed  from  blemishes,  incongruities,  and  contra- 
dictions, no  one  can  doubt.  The  advent  and  ministry  of 
Christ  contributed  toward  this  result;  and  the  thorough 
comprehension  of  His  teachings  has  led  to  the  glorious 
views  of  God's  fatherhood  which  prevail  to-day.  Whether 
they  are  susceptible  of  improvement,  I  know  not.  Prob- 
ably they  are.  Most  likely,  as  we  know  more  of  Christ's 
message,  more  of  nature,  more  of  self,  we  shall  also 
know  more  of  God.  All  this  may  be  acknowledged  glad- 
ly; all  this  may  be  true,  and  undoubtedly  is,  and  yet  the 
atheistic  theory,  with  which  it  is  deftly  woven,  be  abso- 
lutely false. 

The  idea  of  God  is  inexplicable  without  God;  the 
shadow  that  falls  everywhere,  as  has  frequently  been 
pointed  out,  is  meaningless  without  something  to  which  it 


46  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

corresponds.  Mr.  Bracllaugh  says,  "  children  are  born 
atheists";  but  he  overlooks  what  Lichtenberg  declares: 
"  when  the  mind  rises,  it  throws  the  body  upon  its  knees." 
As  soon  as  consciousness  dawns  under  natural  conditions, 
an  invisible  being  seems  instinctively  to  be  recognized. 
The  child  does  not  argue  itself  out  of  atheism  into  theism, 
for  "it  is  after  the  heart  knows  Him  that  the  reason  also 
seeks  Him."  Cicero  long  ago  deliberately  declared  that 
"there  is  no  people  so  wild  and  savage  as  not  to  have 
believed  in  a  God,  even  if  they  have  been  unacquainted 
with  His  nature";  Plutarch,  in  a  passage  familiar  to  every- 
one, expressed  the  same  conviction,  and  it  has  been  echoed 
by  many  authorities,  both  ancient  and  modern ;  and  in  an- 
swer to  those,  who  claim  to  have  found  exceptions  to  this 
rule  in  recent  times,  writers  such  as  Amberley,  who  is  far 
from  sympathizing  with  Christianity,  testifies:  "  So  slender 
is  the  evidence  of  the  presence  of  a  people  without  some 
theological  conception,  that  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
the  travelers  who  have  reported  such  facts  have  not  been 
misled,  either  by  inability  to  comprehend  the  language, 
or  unfamiliarity  with  the  order  of  thought  of  those  with 
whom  they  conversed."  The  universality  of  the  idea 
evidently  cannot  be  satisfactorily  refuted,  and  if  it  is 
established  it  proves  that  it  is  intuitive,  and  its  intuitive- 
ness  proves  that  it  is  the  counterpart  of  reality;  just  as 
the  reflection  of  a  face  in  the  water  is  sufficient  evidence 
that  the  face  itself  is  not  an  illusion.  If  it  is  interwoven 
with  the  mind,  if  it  is  part  of  the  soul's  original  furniture, 
it  is  folly  to  talk  of  its  having  been  evolved,  and  equal 
folly  to  doubt  that  it  is  God's  own  appointed  witness  to 
the  truth  of  His  existence. 

It  is  also  worthy  of  consideration  in  this  connection 
that  the  alleged  progress  of  thought  from  many  gods  to 
one  rests  on  no  reliable  foundation.  Rather  are  there 
reasons  for  believing  that  at  an  early  period  there  was  a 


ANTIQUITY    OF    MONOTHEISM.  47 

widespread  departure  from  the  worship  of  one  God  to  the 
worship  of  many.  Theism  seems  to  have  preceded  poly- 
theism, and  polytheism  in  its  turn  to  have  yielded  to  the- 
ism. From  truth  to  error,  and  back  again,  and  forever,  to 
the  truth,  describes  the  historical  stages  of  this  mental 
process.  As  Naville,  in  his  celebrated  Discourses,  says: 
"The  idea  of  one  God  is  primitive  and  fundamental; 
polytheism  is  derived.  A  forgotten  monotheism  slumbers 
under  the  multiform  worship.  It  is  the  secret  stock  from 
which  the  latter  grew;  but  the  exuberant  offspring  con- 
sumed the  whole  strength  of  the  parent  tree." 

Max  Muller,  in  his  Essays  on  the  Veda,  the  venerable 
and  most  sacred  book  of  India,  observes  "that  after  nam- 
ing the  several  powers  of  nature,  and  worshiping  them  as 
gods,  the  ancient  Hindu  found  that  there  was  yet  another 
power  within  him  and  around  him  for  which  he  had  no 
name.  This  he  termed,  in  the  first  instance,  'Brahman,' 
force,  will,  wish.  But  when  Brahman,  too,  had  become  a 
person,  he  called  the  mysterious  power  'Atman,'  originally 
meaning  breath,  or  spirit;  subsequently  self."  And  in  The 
Chips  from  a  German  Workshop  he  adds:  "If  there  is 
one  thing  which  a  comparative  study  of  religion  places  in 
the  clearest  light,  it  is  the  inevitable  decay  to  which  every 
religion  is  exposed.  .  .  .  Whenever  we  can  trace  back  a 
religion  to  its  first  beginnings,  we  find  it  free  from  many 
blemishes  that  affected  it  in  its  later  stages."  Dr.  Legge, 
in  his  valuable  treatise  on  the  Religions  of  China,  fully 
corroborates  this  opinion;  for  he  maintains  against  Pro- 
fessor Tiele's  insinuation  that  fetichism  was  the  earliest 
faith  of  the  empire,  the  more  tenable  view  that  it  was  a 
theism.  This  he  makes  good,  not  merely  by  an  exhaustive 
analysis  of  the  primitive  name,  Ti,  applied  to  the  Supreme, 
but  by  quotations  from  the  statutes  of  the  Ming  Dynasty, 
such  as  the  following:  "It  is  your  office,  O  spirits, —  infe- 
rior agencies, —  to  superintend  the    clouds  and  the  rain, 


48  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

and  to  raise  and  send  abroad  the  winds,  as  ministers  assist- 
ing Shang  Ti,"  who  is  also  called  "the  great  worker  and 
transformer."  Principal  Dawson  also,  when  describing 
Fossil  Men,  testifies  that  the  creed  of  Stadacona,  the 
ancient  Quebec,  "There  is  one  God,"  was  held,  with 
various  modifications,  by  all  the  American  tribes.  "  The 
Great  Spirit  might  be  the  Great  Manitou,  or  Oghee-ma  of 
the  Algonquins;  Okee  or  Omaha  of  the  Mandans;  or 
approaching  more  nearly  to  the  familiar  Aryan  Theos  and 
Deus,  he  might  be  the  Teo  of  the  Mexicans;  but  in  every 
case  there  was  a  great  Spirit,  though  there  might  be  mul- 
titudes of  inferior  deities."  The  same  thing  has  been 
observed  by  careful  students  of  the  Greek  and  Roman 
mythologies.  Over  and  above  their  lesser  and  rival  gods 
some  Supreme  Jove  is  discerned,  governing  and  ruling,  as 
in  the  hymn  which  the  ancient  stoic  Cleanthes  breathes  to 
Zeus,  the  universal  Spirit.  And  what  is  even  of  more 
weight,  scholars  have  proven  that  the  name  of  God  in 
various  ancient  languages  can  be  traced  to  a  common  root, 
pointing  to  a  primitive  belief  in  His  unity.  According  to 
Dr.  Fairbairn,  "the  Sanskrit  Dyaus,  the  Greek  Zeus,  the 
Latin  Ju  in  Jupiter,  the  Gothic  This,  the  Anglo-Saxon 
Tiu,  the  Scandinavian  Tyr,  the  old  German  Ziu  or  Zio," 
are  cognates;  and  Max  Miiller  writes  concerning  them: 
"We  have  in  the  Veda  the  invocations  Dyas-pitar,  the 
Greek  Zsutzuttjp,  the  Latin  Jupiter/  and  that  means  in  all 
the  three  languages  what  it  meant  before  these  three  lan- 
guages were  torn  asunder, —  it  means  Heaven-father." 

These  facts  are  fatal  to  the  theological  theory  of  evolu- 
tion. From  them  it  seems  evident  that  man  began  with 
the  idea  of  'one  God,  and  gradually  fell  into  idolatry, 
obscuring  the  original  idea,  but  never  completely  effacing 
it.  He  debased  the  grandest  and  most  central  thought  of 
his  religion;  he  never  quite  succeeded  in  effecting  its 
destruction.    Were  the  Evolution  hypothesis  true  this  pro- 


THE    ORIGIN    OF    NATURE.  49 

cess  would  have  been  reversed;  man  would  have  started 
with  belief  in  many  gods,  and  have  risen  to  the  thought 
of  one;  but  as  the  facts  prove  retrogression  first  and  then 
progress,  we  are  obliged  to  regard  the  hypothesis  as  un- 
worthy of  confidence.  And  as  it  fails  to  account  for  the 
origin  of  the  idea  of  God,  and  as  we  find  the  idea  at  the 
very  dawning  of  human  history,  and  apparently  native  to 
every  human  soul,  we  are  shut  up  to  the  conclusion  that 
no  explanation  is  possible,  apart  from  the  corresponding 
reality  to  which  it  points. 

But  if  the  idea  of  God  is  inexplicable  without  God, 
the  origin  of  nature  is  equally  incomprehensible  without 
Him.  Who  is  there  that  can  form  even  a  vague  concep- 
tion of  how  the  universe  came  into  being  or  was  fashioned 
in  beauty  and  clothed  with  deepest  symbolism  when  the 
existence  of  an  Infinite  Intelligence  is  denied?  Much  is 
written  about  nebulae,  about  plastic  matter,  about  atoms 
and  molecules,  about  ages  of  measureless  duration,  when 
the  molten  mass  whence  sprang  all  things  was  gradually 
cooling  and  shaping  itself  into  suns,  moons,  stars  and  satel- 
lites; about  the  condensation  of  its  particles,  the  radiation 
of  its  heat,  and  its  rotary  motion;  about  the  formation  of 
great  rings,  which  continued  to  whirl  and  spin,  like  wheels, 
until  each  was  broken  into  fragments  and  pursued  its  cir- 
cumrotation  around  its  own  appropriate  center.  Much  also 
has  been  written  about  the  earth, —  how  at  the  beginning 
it  was  a  liquid,  fiery  ball,  with  zones  of  vapor  belting  it, 
which  turned  into  water  and  filled  the  cracks  and  chasms 
of  the  cooling  crust  with  broad-heaving  seas  and  deep- 
flowing  streams;  and  how,  after  the  lapse  of  untold  ages, 
infusorial  life  appeared  and  the  struggle  for  existence 
commenced,  which  in  the  course  of  time,  and  after  throes 
of  agony,  extermination  and  transient  conflict,  culminated 
in  the  development  of  man  from  inferior  species.  All  this 
is  interesting  enough,  and  it  all  may  be  true,  but  I  defy 
4 


50  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

any  one  to  understand  it  apart  from  the  creative  wisdom 
and  almightiness  of  God.  Spontaneous  motion  and  spon- 
taneous generation,  and  the  fortuitous  concurrence  of 
atoms,  which  have  been  marshaled  with  great  pomp  and 
royalty  of  language  to  explain  this  complicated  marvel, 
but  darken  what  they  undertake  to  illuminate;  they  are 
but  myths  of  science, —  deep,  involved,  bewildering, —  or 
gorgeous  speculations,  dazzling  with  electric  brilliancy, 
and  like  the  electric  light  creating  denser  and  more  pain- 
ful shadows  than  they  disperse.  Whence  came  the  primal 
force,  of  which  so  much  is  affirmed,  and  what  at  first  dis- 
turbed the  original  inertia  of  matter?  What  determined 
the  origin,  the  order  and  arrangement  of  the  atoms  or  the 
molecules,  concerning  which  we  know  so  little  and  about 
which  so  many  talk  learned  emptiness  ?  We  really  know 
absolutely  nothing  of  their  essential  nature,  as  they  are 
invisible  and  intangible,  and  consequently  are  beyond  the 
range  of  our  analysis.  How  came  they,  then,  to  combine, 
what  started  them  on  their  career,  and  how  came  it  that 
their  complicated  combinations  and  mazy  processionings 
produced  the  endless  phenomena  of  the  worlds  ?  We  wait 
for  an  intelligent  reply,  and  we  shall  wait  for  it  eternally. 
Holbach,  in  answering  similar  questions,  was  obliged  to 
admit:  "We  do  not  know,  neither  do  you;  we  never  shall, 
you  never  will."  But  does  some  thinker,  more  intrepid 
than  the  German,  reply:  "Chance,  necessity,  is  all  that  is 
logically  required  to  account  for  everything"?  But  this 
accounts  for  nothing;  it  is  simply  a  confession  of  igno- 
rance, and  not  in  any  sense  an  elucidation  of  the  problem. 
It  is  merely  to  repeat  the  senile  and  senseless  affirmation 
that  the  earth  rests  upon  "the  tortoise,"  but  to  leave  un- 
answered the  more  vital  question,  "On  what  does  the  tor- 
toise rest?" 

Claudias,  in  his  C/iria,  represents  the  illuminati  as  say- 
ing: "Whether  there  be  a  God,  and  what  He  may  be,  phi- 


THE    DESIGN — ARGUMENT.  51 

losophy  alone  can  teach,  and  without  philosophy  there  can 
be  no  thought  of  God."  "Good,"  answers  the  Master; 
"yet,  though  no  man  can  say  of  me  with  a  shadow  of 
truth  that  I  am  a  philosopher,  I  never  go  through  the 
forest  without  thinking  who  makes  the  flowers  grow,  and 
then  a  faint  and  distant  notion  comes  over  me  of  a  great 
Unknown  One,  and  so  reverently,  yet  so  joyfully,  does  my 
heart  thrill  that  I  could  wager  that  I  am  thinking  of 
God."  He  instinctively  recognizes  the  Worker  by  His 
work,  and  realizes  that  it  is  too  wonderful,  too  beautiful, 
too  closely  allied  to  himself  and  too  intimately  related 
to  his  happiness  for  it  to  have  been  the  result  of  unpre- 
meditating  chance.  And  a  similar  impression  led  Lord 
Bacon  to  exclaim,  "  I  had  rather  believe  all  the  fables  in 
the  legend,  and  the  Talmud  and  Al  Koran,  than  that  this 
universal  frame  is  without  mind;  and  therefore  God  never 
wrought  miracles  to  convince  Atheism,  because  His  ordi- 
nary works  convince  it." 

They  are  right;  the  order  of  nature,  as  well  as  its  origin, 
reveals  intelligent  design,  and  design  cannot  be  explained 
apart  from  a  great  Designer.  I  know  Lucretius  disputed 
this  proposition,  but  Aristotle  recognized  its  force,  and 
since  his  day  many  a  heart  has  been  made  glad  by  what 
has  been  discerned  of  Infinite  wisdom  in  the  universe.  Mr. 
Spencer  may  ridicule  Paley's  argument,  but  his  admirer, 
Mr.  Darwin,  has  more  than  confirmed  it  in  what  he  has 
written  about  insect  agency,  and  of  remarkable  instances 
of  contrivance  and  prevision.  Sir  Charles  Bell  also  has 
done  good  service  in  the  same  direction.  When  account- 
ing for  his  interest  in  the  study  of  anatomy,  he  impressively 
wrote:  "Everything  there  is  so  perfect,  so  curiously  fitted, 
and  leads  you  by  little  and  little  to  the  comprehension  of 
a  wisdom  so  perfect,  that  I  am  forced  to  believe  that  in 
the  moral  world  things  are  not  really  left  in  all  that  disar- 
ray in  which  our  partial  view  would  persuade  us  they  are." 


52  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

Even  Mr.  Holyoake,  in  his  Debate  with  Townley,  was  con- 
strained to  yield  to  the  logic  of  such  reasoning  and  "to 
allow  that,  so  far  as  the  design  argument  goes,  it  estab- 
lishes a  being  which  is  distinct  from  nature, —  of  limited 
nature."  These  are  his  own  words,  found  in  the  London 
edition  of  this  celebrated  controversy,  published  in  1852, 
and  now  somewhat  rare.  Hume,  Natural  History  of 
Religion,  declared  "that  the  whole  frame  of  nature  be- 
speaks an  intelligent  Author";  and  Voltaire,  as  is  well 
known,  fully  sympathized  with  this  conclusion,  as,  indeed, 
did  Thomas  Paine,  and  both  gave  it  their  unqualified  sup- 
port and  testified  to  it  repeatedly  with  graceful  eloquence. 

I  shall  never  forget  a  similar  testimony  borne  by  the 
late  Professor  Peirce,  of  Harvard,  one  of  the  most  devout 
scientists  I  ever  had  the  pleasure  to  meet,  who,  in  a  lec- 
ture on  the  Nebular  Hypothesis,  delivered  before  a  select 
company  at  the  Chestnut  Street  Club,  in  Boston,  dwelt  on 
the  evidences  of  Divine  existence  and  wisdom  which  it 
afforded,  and  incidentally  called  attention  to  the  fact  that 
"the  wing  of  the  eagle  is  never  found  in  the  egg  of  a 
goose."  Simple  and  commonplace  as  the  statement  was 
it  condensed  in  itself  an  irresistible  argument.  One  could 
not  believe  that  from  sources  so  similar  pinions  would 
unfold  so  differently,  unless  previously  ordered  and  ar- 
ranged by  a  thinking  mind.  He  demonstrated  that  in  the 
lowest  organizations,  as  well  as  in  the  highest,  the  marks 
of  design  are  too  conspicuous  to  admit  of  cavil  or  doubt; 
and  thus  led  he  his  hearers,  eloquently  and  with  poetic 
pathos,  "through  nature  up  to  nature's  God." 

Yes,  up  to  God,  for  to  Him,  and  to  Him  alone,  do  the 
labyrinthine  and  complicated  wonders  of  the  universe 
point.  When  that  awe-inspiring  name  is  spoken,  when 
He  is  looked  up  to  and  devoutly  recognized  as  the  primal, 
all-sufficient  Cause,  the  problem  of  creation  seems  less  in- 
volved and  inscrutable.     Even  if  His  name  does  not  alto- 


ATHEISTIC    RELIGIONS.  53 

gether  satisfy  the  head,  it  meets  the  questionings  of  the 
heart.  At  least  every  other  attempted  solution  of  the 
mystery  is  vague,  irrelevant,  incoherent  and  utterly  mean- 
ingless. This  alone  is  clear,  complete  and  comprehensive, 
and  is  practically  unanswerable.  That  as  the  sole  Cause 
He  is  perfectly  adequate  to  account  for  all  things  no  one 
has  yet  had  the  temerity  to  deny.  All  that  the  Atheist 
claims  is  that  nature  is  comprehensible  without  Him, 
not  that  it  is  incomprehensible  with  Him.  Every  one 
admits  that  He  is  a  sufficient  explanation;  the  atheistic- 
ally  inclined  only  try  to  show  that  He  is  an  unneces- 
sary one.  I  have  aimed  in  these  brief  paragraphs  to 
show  that  their  position  is  untenable;  that  it  does  not  and 
cannot  account  for  things  as  they  are;  that  their  solu- 
tions of  the  problem,  with  His  name  omitted  and  His 
agency  ignored,  are  irreconcilable  with  the  evidences  of 
design  and  with  what  we  know  of  the  properties  of 
matter,  and  involve  us  in  confusing  contradictions  and 
inextricable  perplexities. 

It  may  seem  very  singular  to  you  that  anyone  should 
have  suggested  the  possibility  of  religion  with  no  God 
acknowledged  in  its  faith  or  reverenced  in  its  worship. 
Yet  this  is  a  favorite  assumption  of  some  quick-gaited 
followers  of  modern  thought.  Thus,  as  quoted  by  Mr. 
Mallock,  "  Professor  Tyndall  points  with  delighted  confi- 
dence to  the  gospel  of  Buddhism  as  one  of  pure  human 
ethics,  divorced  not  only  from  Brahma  and  the  Brah- 
minic  trinity,  but  even  from  the  existence  of  God";  and 
M.  Barthelemy  Saint-Hilaire  asserts  that  "  there  is  not 
the  slightest  trace  of  a  belief  in  God  in  all  Buddhism. " 
The  Positive  Philosophy  advocates  something  akin  to 
this.  As  man  is  the  highest  being  which  it  can  consist- 
ently recognize,  it  proposes  to  worship  collective  human- 
ity with  all  the  enthusiasm  such  a  deity  can  inspire, 
and  to   derive  from   it  a  scheme  of  morals  that  shall  put 


54  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

to  blush  the  inferior  ethics  of  Christianity.  Verily  the 
sagacious  Lichtenberg  was  not  mad  when  he  prophesied: 
"  This  world  of  ours  will  become  so  refined,  that  it  will 
be  as  ridiculous  to  believe  in  God  as  it  now  is  to  believe  in 
ghosts.  And  then  the  world  will  become  still  more 
refined — then  we  shall  believe  only  in  ghosts.  We  shall 
ourselves  become  as  God." 

Now  with  due  deference  to  Professor  Tyndall  and  M. 
Saint-Hilaire  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  that  while  Bud- 
dhism as  a  system  says  nothing  about  God,  His  existence 
is  not  denied;  and  most  likely,  by  its  founder,  was  assumed, 
as  his  doctrine  was  based  on  the  Veda,  in  which  it  is  fully 
recognized.  Moreover,  it  should  not  be  overlooked  that 
the  followers  of  Buddha  did  not  abandon  the  ancient 
deities  whom  their  fathers  worshiped,  such  as  Indra  and 
Brahma,  and  that  Buddha  himself  came  to  be  regarded  as 
the  most  exalted  being  in  the  universe.  He  who  deter- 
mined all  the  circumstances  of  his  own  incarnation,  and 
who  delivered  infallible  doctrine,  could  not  fail  to  receive 
divine  honors,  or  become  as  fully  God  to  the  faith  of 
millions,  as  Christ  is  to  untold  numbers  of  His  disciples. 
Hence  such  prayers  as  this,  reproduced  by  Johnson  from 
Franck's  Etudes  Orientates,  and  in  use  among  the  Mon- 
golians: "O  thou  in  whom  all  creatures  trust,  Buddha,  per- 
fected amidst  countless  revolutions  of  worlds,  compassion- 
ate toward  all,  and  their  eternal  salvation,  bend  down 
into  this  our  sphere,  with  all  thy  society  of  perfected 
ones.  Thou  law  of  all  creatures,  brighter  than  the  sun, 
in  faith  we  humble  ourselves  before  thee.  Thou  who 
completest  all  pilgrimage,  also  dwellest  in  the  world  of 
rest,  before  whom  all  is  but  transient,  descend  by 
thy  almighty  power,  and  bless  us."  In  Thibetan 
Buddhism,  Avalok-iteswara,  its  manifested  deity,  is  said 
to  hear  and  answer  prayer,  and  that  they  who  trust  in 
him  are  secure.      And  in  Nepaul,  where  Buddhism  pre- 


HISTORICAL   CREEDS.  55 

vails,  theism  is  not  divorced  from  the  system,  but  is  in- 
terwoven with  it,  and  is  doubtless  one  cause  of  its  vigor. 
As  to  Positivism,  that  is  as  yet  an  experiment;  but  I  do 
not  think  much  is  hazarded  in  predicting  that  its  influ- 
ence will  never  extend  beyond  a  limited  circle  of  pecul- 
iar, not  to  say  abnormal,  souls.  It  is  inconceivable  that 
common- sense  people  will  ever  be  persuaded  to  worship 
ideal  humanity,  or  to  agree  in  founding  a  church  in 
which  man  shall  be  both  priest  and  deity.  The  world 
is  not  yet  a  lunatic  asylum,  and  it  is  not  probable  that 
it  will  soon  so  far  become  one  as  to  deify  the  perishing 
and  adore  the  impotent. 

While  it  is  not  true  that  religions  have  flourished 
where  "  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart,  '  there  is  no 
God,'  "  it  is  true  that  their  worth  and  purity  depend  very 
largely  on  the  conceptions  formed  of  His  attributes  and 
character.  What  He  is,  they  are.  His  nature  as  a  rule 
decides  theirs.  A  savage,  cruel  deity  can  hardly  beget 
anything  but  a  harsh  faith  and  a  cruel  ritual;  but  a  lov- 
ing, merciful  God  will  ever  be  the  fruitful  source  of  sym- 
pathy and  tenderness  in  the  institutions  that  are  reared 
to  magnify  His  name.  He  Himself  will  be  reflected 
in  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  formal  worship  as  well  as 
in  the  lives  of  His  people.  This  principle  explains  the 
differences  that  separate  historic  faiths  from  each  other 
and  shows  why  some  are  gross  and  others  refined,  some 
animalistic  and  others  spiritual,  and  indicates  how  im- 
portant it  is  not  merely  to  think  of  God,  but  to  think 
of  Him  aright.  It  also  very  clearly  proves  that  the 
growth  of  pure  religion  in  the  world  can  only  be  pro- 
moted by  knowing  more  of  Him:  certainly  not  by  deny- 
ing Him  altogether.  And  if  religion  is  thus  a  necessity 
of  our  nature,  which  the  Atheist  concedes  when  he  claims 
that  the  prevalence  of  his  creed  would  not  destroy  it, 
and    if,  as    we    have    argued,  it    is    inseparable   from   a 


56  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

recognition  of  the  Almighty,  then  we  cannot  but  con- 
clude that  its  character  and  universality  demonstrate  the 
reality  of  His  existence. 

A  vigorous  imagination  is  doubtless  needed  to  affirm 
that  the  elevation  of  humanity  is  practicable  without  God; 
yet  such  is  the  dream  of  Gustave  Flourens,  and  of  a  few 
other  visionary  mortals.  The  gentleman  just  named,  ap- 
parently in  a  state  of  semi-frenzy,  has  been  pleased  to 
write.  "Our  enemy  is  God.  Hatred  of  God  is  the  begin- 
ning of  wisdom.  If  mankind  would  make  true  progress  it 
must  be  on  the  basis  of  Atheism;"  and  Mr.  Bradlaugh  so 
far  approves  this  startling  view  as  to  say:  "Atheism, 
properly  understood,  is  in  no  sense  a  cold,  barren  negative; 
it  is,  on  the  contrary,  a  hearty,  truthful  affirmation  of  all 
truth.  You  cannot  get  your  scheme  of  morality  without 
it."  Are  these  gentlemen  drugged  or  mad,  or  has  the  entire 
race  gone  crazy  and  they  alone  retained  their  senses  ?  As- 
suredly either  the  eleven  jurymen  have  turned  imbeciles, 
or  the  twelfth  one  is  sadly  muddled  and  demented.  Which  ? 
It  may,  however,  relieve  our  perplexities  and  allay  our  fears 
to  learn  that  Mr.  Holyoake  has  controverted  these  obnox- 
ious sentiments,  distinctly  declaring  that  "Atheism,  as 
such,  gives  no  system  of  truth  and  no  scheme  of  morality." 
These  champions  of  a  common  creed  may  be  left  to  reconcile 
their  differences  as  best  they  may.  It  is  enough  for  us  to 
know,  an  enemy  being  judge,  that  theists  are  not  so  stupid 
as  Flourens  and  his  sympathizers  insinuate.  We  doubtless 
have  heard  similar  groundless  tirades  against  the  Deity 
nearer  home.  Some  things  in  Colonel  Ingersoll's  brilliant 
invectives,  and  various  statements  in  Professor  Draper's 
uncandid  criticisms,  suggest  that  religion  has  really  been 
a  hindrance  to  human  progress,  and  that  until  it  is  finally 
abolished  all  that  is  possible  can  never  be  accomplished. 
One  would  suppose  that  belief  in  God  has  been  an  unmiti- 
gated curse  to  the  race,  darkening  the  intellect,  afflicting 


ATHEISM    AND    MORALITY.  57 

the  heart,  and  burdening  the  life.  Indeed,  against  it,  in 
one  form  or  another,  these  accusations  have  been  brought 
repeatedly.  It  has  been  over  and  over  again  alleged  that 
faith  in  God  has  excited  fear,  has  paralyzed  inquiry,  has 
impeded  freedom  of  thought  and  speech,  has  deepened 
bigotry,  resisted  science,  and  intensified  selfishness  and 
prejudice.  If  these  charges  are  true,  if  theism  has  ren- 
dered mankind  ignoble,  miserable,  dwarfed  its  growth  and 
checked  its  onward  march,  then  indeed  must  it  be  admit- 
ted that  human  elevation  is  not  only  practicable  without 
God,  but  would  really  be  accelerated  if  His  name  could  be 
erased  from  the  vocabulary  of  thought.  But  can  any  sane 
man,  familiar  with  history  and  free  from  blinding  antipa- 
thy to  Christianity,  admit  such  monstrous  allegations? 

That  which  we  call  morality  is  grounded  on  the  being 
and  governorship  of  the  Almighty.  In  Him  the  source  of 
righteousness  is  recognized,  and  from  Him  it  derives  its 
sanction.  Right  and  wrong  were  meaningless  terms  were 
it  not  that  they  represent  eternal  and  necessary  distinc- 
tions which  even  the  Infinite  cannot  abrogate,  and  account- 
ability would  be  to  all  intents  and  purposes  a  fiction  were 
it  not  that  He  lives  and  reigns.  Obligation  is  only  another 
word  for  theism:  for  it  involves  theism,  and  is  inseparable 
from  it.  Doubtless  it  is  possible  for  some  men  who  have 
been  reared  in  an  atmosphere  of  Christian  faith,  and  who 
have  received  from  pious  parents  correct  principles  of 
conduct,  to  live  upright  lives  ;  but  it  cannot  be  shown 
that  a  community  entirely  ignorant  of  religion  and  its 
sacred  influence,  and  fully  convinced  of  the  certainty  of 
Atheism,  would  be  able  to  derive  from  it  adequate  motives 
to  virtue,  or  would  even  be  able  to  believe  in  virtue  at  all. 
Why  should  Plato  have  banished  all  Atheists  from  his 
ideal  Republic,  and  why  was  Cicero  so  intent  against 
them  ?  Perhaps  Voltaire  may  help  us  to  a  satisfactory 
reply.     In   his  Philosophical  Dictionary   he   says   with 


58  ISMS    OLD   AND    NEW. 

much  pungency:  "I  would  not  wish  to  come  in  the  way 
of  an  atheistical  prince,  whose  interest  it  should  be  to 
have  me  pounded  in  a  mortar.  I  am  quite  sure  that  I 
should  be  so  pounded.  AVere  I  a  sovereign,  I  would  not 
have  to  do  with  atheistical  courtiers,  whose  interest  it  was 
to  poison  me;  I  should  be  under  the  necessity  of  taking 
an  antidote  every  day.  It  is,  then,  absolutely  necessary 
for  princes  and  people  that  the  idea  of  a  Supreme  Being, 
creating,  governing,  and  rewarding  and  punishing,  be 
engraven  on  their  minds."  That  is,  he  believed,  as  did 
both  Plato  and  Cicero,  that  the  well-being  of  society  de- 
pends on  morality,  and  morality  on  God;  and  that,  there- 
fore, they  who  deny  His  existence  will  be  far  from  feeling 
that  sense  of  obligation  which  would  make  them  honest 
rulers  or  useful  and  worthy  citizens.  This  seems  to  have 
been  the  judgment  of  antiquity, —  a  judgment  repeated 
by  the  best  minds  of  modern  times,  and  a  judgment  more 
than  justified  by  those  brief,  disastrous  periods,  and  by 
those  unhappy  cities,  in  which  atheism  has  held  temporary 
sway. 

Morality  is  the  source  and  inspiration  of  progress;  it 
quickens  and  purifies  genius  and  industry;  it  stimulates 
and  encourages  thought  and  endeavor.  The  countries 
where  science  and  art  have  flourished  are  those  which 
have  adhered  most  firmly  to  its  principles,  and  have  traced 
them  most  uniformly  to  an  Invisible  Source.  What  dis- 
covery, what  great  enterprise,  what  beneficent  revolution, 
what  enlarged  benevolence,  what  victory  for  freedom, 
what  achievement  for  art,  is  due  to  the  influence  of  athe- 
ism ?  Has  it  delivered  the  captive,  rescued  the  fallen, 
lifted  up  the  oppressed,  strengthened  the  weak,  defended 
the  helpless?  No;  its  record  is  unhonored  with  accounts 
of  such  deeds.  It  is  a  melancholy  and  disgraceful  blank. 
Never  has  it  given  to  the  world  a  Plato,  a  Copernicus,  a 
Galileo,  a  Bacon,  a  Milton,  an  Angelo,  a  Wilberforce,  or 


MISERY   OF    ATHEISM.  59 

any  other  great  name  entitled  to  rank  with  the  benefac- 
tors of  mankind.  It  has  actually  done  nothing  to  advance 
the  well-being  of  humanity;  and  yet  it  has  in  these  last 
days  the  effrontery  to  represent  itself  as  sufficiently  bene- 
ficent to  be  the  real  and  only  Messiah.  May  we  be  saved 
from  its  millennium  !  for  if  it  bear  likeness  to  its  past 
history,  the  wilderness  and  solitary  place  will  only  be 
more  solitary,  and  the  blossoming  rose  will  return  to 
desert  dreariness. 

Then,  as  to  fear  and  wretchedness,  how  does  it  come  to 
pass,  if  theism  is  untrue,  that  in  proportion  as  it  is  doubted 
these  evils  grow  denser  in  the  soul?  When  it  was  rejected 
in  Rome,  suicide  increased.  The  most  distinguished  men 
of  those  times  felt  that  existence  was  worthless;  and  Scho- 
penhauer, who  in  our  day  has  elaborated  Godless  material- 
ism into  a  poem,  wailingly  and  sneeringly  contends  that 
"all  possessions  are  vanity,  the  world  a  bankrupt  in  all 
quarters,  and  life  a  business  that  does  not  pay  expenses." 
Such  is  the  happiness  that  atheism  offers  and  yields.  Can 
there  come  anything  but  this  awful  and  woful  weariness 
when  man  is  everlastingly  confronted  by  eternal  death, 
universal  dumbness  and  echoing  dissonances?  Fear!  How 
does  atheism  deliver  from  terror?  It  has  banished  God 
from  thought,  but  has  it  excluded  from  apprehension  that 
which  these  blind  material  forces,  these  overwhelming 
physical  agencies,  these  subtle  elements,  ordered  by  law- 
less chance  and  frantic  destiny,  may  do  and  work?  In 
them  there  is  no  intelligence  to  appeal  to,  no  mercy  to 
call  on, —  only  irresistible,  reckless,  heartless  power  and 
fate.  Well  may  we  cower  before  such  devastating  and 
consuming  monsters,  such  huge,  uncontrollable  and  soul- 
less antagonists.  In  their  grasp  we  are  more  helpless  than 
infants;  before  their  breath  we  are  as  frail  as  the  bubble 
that  is  shattered  by  the  gentlest  breeze,  or  the  spray-drop 
that  glistens  for  a  moment  on  the  crested   wave  and  is 


60  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

then  beaten  back  into  the  oblivion  of  the  deep  by  the  tri- 
umphant wind.  The  recognition  of  Deity  has  inspired 
fear,  and  must;  but  not  such  terrible,  hopeless  fear  as 
does  ungoverned  and  ungovernable  nature.  He,  at  least, 
can  be  communed  with;  on  Him,  at  least,  the  oppressed 
can  lean;  and  unto  Him,  at  least,  the  weary  toilers  can 
hope  to  go  when  death  terminates  their  bitter  sorrows;  but 
nature  has  no  heart  to  feel,  no  hand  to  help,  and  no  refuge 
but  a  loathsome  grave  in  which  despair  can  hide  its  an- 
guish. 

Is  it  not  ridiculous,  then,  to  believe  that  human  prog- 
ress is  feasible,  with  Godless  nature,  like  a  dead  timepiece, 
for  its  guide  and  inspiration  ?  If  the  universe  is  but  a 
dial  without  a  hand,  how  can  we  poor  mortals  know  the 
time  of  day,  or  recognize  the  duty  of  the  hour?  Such  a 
dumb,  motionless  horologe,  without  ever  a  morning  chime 
to  awaken  slumbering  virtue  or  a  midnight  bell  to  toll  the 
doom  of  wakeful  viciousness,  would  hardly  promote  the 
moral  order  of  society  or  exalt  the  character  of  its  mem- 
bers. And  if  my  argument  has  been  sound  throughout, 
though  proofs  of  the  Divine  existence  have  not  been 
formally  attempted,  it  must  necessarily  follow,  as  the  idea 
of  God  is  not  explicable  without  Him,  as  the  origin  of 
nature  is  not  comprehensible  without  Him,  as  the  preva- 
lence of  religion  is  not  possible  without  Him,  or  the  eleva- 
tion of  humanity  practicable  without  Him,  that  He  must 
be  the  One  everlasting  reality  and  imperishable  glory  of 
the  universe. 

The  reproach  of  the  pagan  world  pronounced  b)T  Paul, 
"that  when  they  knew  God  they  glorified  Him  not  as 
God,"  unhappily  is  not  undeserved  by  many  in  our  own 
times.  Theoretical  atheism  generally  may  have  been  re- 
jected, but  that  which  is  practical  yet  holds  in  bondage 
the  large  majority  of  souls.  Inconsiderateness  of  Divine 
things,   prayerlessness  and  godlessness,  are   the   common 


PRACTICAL   ATHEISM.  61 

evils  of  the  age.  Men  and  women  who  sincerely  count 
themselves  believers  in  the  central  truth  of  religion  never 
bow  the  knee  before  God's  throne;  they  avoid  His  sanc- 
tuary, and  keep  every  thought  of  His  presence  and  power 
as  far  as  possible  from  them.  They  live  every  day  as 
though  there  were  no  God,  and  act  as  though  they  stood 
not  in  the  blaze  of  His  omniscience,  and  were  not  hasten- 
ing, with  every  fleeting  breath,  to  His  judgment  seat. 
End,  I  beseech  you,  end  this  inconsistency.  Learn  that 
He  who  made  you  seeks  to  dwell  in  you  ;  that  He  who 
rules  over  you  would  fain  become  your  friend  and  guide. 
Though  you  are  weak  and  frail,  though  you  are  poor  and 
helpless,  He  does  not  despise  you,  but  would  glorify  your 
being  with  His  own,  and  raise  you  to  fellowship  with 
Himself.  Think  of  Him,  turn  to  Him,  love  and  obey 
Him,  and  then  will  you  know  from  blessed  experience 
what  it  is  to  live  and  move  and  have  your  being  in  Him. 

"  What  am  I  ?    Naught, 
Nothing!  yet  the  effluence  of  Thy  light  divine, 
Pervading  worlds,  hath  reached  my  bosom  too; 
Yes,  in  my  spirit  doth  Thy  spirit  shine, 
As  shines  the  sunbeam  in  a  drop  of  dew. 
Naught !  but  I  live,  and  on  hope's  pinions  fly 
Eager  toward  Thy  presence ;  for  in  Thee 
I  live,  and  breathe,  and  dwell,  aspiring  high, 
Even  to  the  throne  of  Thy  divinity." 


PANTHEISM. 

"  For  in  Him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being."  Acts  xvii,  28. 

"  Hallowed  be  Thy  name  —  Hallelujah ! 
Infinite  Ideality! 
Immeasurable  Reality! 
Infinite  Personality! 
Hallowed  be  Thy  name  — Hallelujah! 
We  feel  we  are  nothing  —  for  all  is  Thou  and  in  Thee; 
We  feel  we  are  something  —  that  also  has  come  from  Thee. 
We  are  nothing,  O  Thou  — but  Thou  wilt  help  us  to  be! 
Hallowed  be  Thy  name  —  Hallelujah !  " 

Alfred  Tennyson. 

AMONG  the  Hindu  lore  collected  by  Viscount  Ani' 
-£^_  berley  we  have  the  following  interesting  legend: 
A  wise  father  said  to  his  son  Swetaketu:  "Dissolve  this 
salt  in  water,  and  appear  before  me  to-morrow  morning." 
The  youth  obeyed,  and  when  on  the  return  of  day  he 
saluted  his  sire  he  was  directed  to  find  the  salt  that  he 
had  mingled  with  the  water  on  the  previous  evening.  He 
acknowledged  that  he  could  not,  Then  answered  the 
parent:  "Taste  a  little  of  the  refreshing  element, —  a  few 
drops  from  the  top,  a  few  from  the  middle  and  a  few  from 
the  bottom.  What  is  the  flavor?"  "The  water  is  salt- 
ish," replied  Swetaketu.  "If  so,  wash  your  mouth  and 
grieve  not."  Having  done  as  he  was  bidden,  he  said  to 
his  father:  "The  salt  that  I  put  in  the  water  exists  for- 
ever; though  it  is  not  perceived  by  my  eyes  it  is  felt  by 
my  tongue."  "Verily  such  is  the  case  with  truth,  my 
child,"  responded  the  sage,  who  was  seeking  to  illustrate 
the  deep  mystery  of  the  finite-infinite:  "though  you  per- 
ceive it  not,  nevertheless  it   pervades   this   body.      That 


HINDU   PANTHEISM.  63 

particle  which   is  the  soul  of  all,  this  is  truth;   it  is  the 
universal  soul.     O  Swetaketu,  thou  art  That ! " 

We  have  in  this  brief  dialogue  a  hint  of  that  strange 
doctrine  which  fills  so  large  a  place  in  Hindu  philosophy, 
and  which,  in  more  logical  shape,  has  exerted  a  profound 
influence  on  modern  European  speculations.  I  refer  to 
Pantheism, —  that  remarkable  belief  of  which  traces  are 
apparent  in  the  world's  most  venerable  religions;  which 
renders  Atheism  impossible  by  identifying  the  Almighty 
with  the  universe;  which  substitutes  all-God  for  no-God; 
which  declares  that  God  is  everything,  or  that  everything 
is  God,  and  which  thus  makes  Him  the  center  and  circum- 
ference, the  essence  and  the  substance,  of  every  order  of 
existence  and  of  every  species  of  phenomena,  Glimpses  of 
an  all-embracing,  all-comprehending,  all-pervading  Being, 
who  is  the  " anima  mundi"  are  afforded  us  in  the  sacred 
memorials  of  ancient  faiths.  The  Veda  represents  Him 
as  Essence,  and  thus  chants  His  nature  in  its  hymns  of 
praise: 

"  The  wise  man  views  that  mysterious  Being 
In  whom  the  universe  perpetually  exists, 
Resting  upon  that  sole  support, 
In  Him  is  the  world  absorbed, 
From  Him  it  issues. 
In  creatures  is  He  twined  and  wove  in  various  forms." 

In  the  Mahdbhdrata  Vishnu  is  presented  as  the  su- 
preme Deity,  who  is  revealed  in  everything,  and  who  in 
himself  is  everything.  Thus  he  describes  himself  when 
holding  converse  with  a  mortal,  whom  he  is  inciting  to 
slay  his  relatives  by  the  argument  that  all  life  is  illusive 
except  the  Divine,  and  that,  therefore,  he  will  only  be 
destroying  an  appearance:  "I  am  the  soul,  O  Arjuna, 
which  exists  in  the  heart  of  all  beings;  and  I  am  the 
beginning  and  the  middle,  and  also  the  end,  of  existing 
things."     Thus,  also,  among  the  Egyptians  we  find  above 


64  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

their  multiplied  mythological  gods  One,  and  only  One,  to 
whom  is  given  the  name  Ra,  concerning  whom  George 
Ebers  writes  in  Uarda :  "  Under  the  name  Ra  we  under- 
stand something  different  than  is  known  to  the  common 
herd;  for  to  us  the  universe  is  God,  and  in  each  of  its 
parts  we  recognize  a  manifestation  of  that  highest  Being, 
without  whom  nothing  is  in  the  heights  above  or  in  the 
depths  below."  .  .  .  "Whether  we  view  the  sun,  the  har- 
vest, or  the  Nile;  whether  we  contemplate  with  admiration 
the  unity  and  harmony  of  the  visible  or  invisible  world, 
still  it  is  always  with  the  only,  the  all-embracing  One,  we 
have  to  do,  to  whom  we  also  ourselves  belong  as  those 
of  His  manifestations,  in  which  He  places  His  self-con- 
sciousness." An  English  version  of  Hermes  gives  the 
following  quotation,  which  throws  additional  light  on  this 
Egyptian  conception  of  a  diffused  Divinity  :  "  There  is 
nothing  in  the  whole  world  which  God  is  not.  He  is 
being  and  non-being.  He  has  manifested  being,  but  He 
has  non-being  in  Himself."  .  .  .  "Thou  art  what  I  am; 
Thou  art  what  I  do;  Thou  art  what  I  say;  Thou  art  all 
which  is  produced  and  which  is  not  produced."  And  in 
the  city  of  Alexandria  the  same  mystical  idea  seems  to 
have  blended  with  the  worship  of  Serapis;  for  when 
Nicocreon,  King  of  Cyprus,  consulted  him  he  received 
this  reply: 

"A  god  I  am,  such  as  I  show  to  thee, 
The  starry  heavens  my  head,  my  trunk  the  sea; 
Earth  forms  my  feet,  mine  ears  the  air  supplies, 
The  sun's  far-darting,  brilliant  rays  mine  eyes." 

According  to  this  representation  Serapis  and  nature 
were  looked  upon  as  one  and  indivisible;  and  similarly, 
in  the  "  Boundless  Time  "  of  the  Parsees,  the  "  Bythos," 
or  "The  Depths"  of  the  Ophites,  and  the  "Closed  Eye" 
of  the  Kabalists,  we  find  suggestions  of  the 


ELEATIC    SPECULATIONS.  65 

"  One  harmonious  whole, 
Whose  body  nature  is,  and  God  the  soul." 

"  To  Him  no  high,  no  low,  no  great,  no  small ; 
He  fills,  He  bounds,  connects,  and  equals  all." 

Pantheism  also,  among  the  Greeks,  had  its  advocates. 
The  pre-Socratic  philosophers  were  more  or  less  tainted 
with  it,  though  it  first  attained  complete  expression  in 
the  teachings  of  the  Eleatics.  Xenophanes,  the  founder 
of  this  school,  says  Aristotle,  "  casting  his  eyes  upward 
at  the  immensity  of  heaven,  declared  that  the  One  is 
God."  Hunt,  in  his  admirable  treatise  on  this  subject, 
represents  Parmenides,  the  successor  of  Xenophanes,  as 
holding  to  a  species  of  Acosmism,  which  led  him  to  chal- 
lenge the  reality  of  external  appearances,  and  to  assume 
that  "  thought  is  the  same  thing  as  being,"  and  "  that 
nothing,  in  fact,  is,  or  will  be,  distinct  from  being."  In 
contrast  with  Eleaticism,  the  mystical  Heraclitus,  a  phi- 
losopher who  constantly  lived  in  a  "cave  of  cloud,"  un- 
able to  discover  the  Absolute,  taught  that  the  universe 
is  neither  being  nor  non-being,  but  an  eternal  Becoming, 
and  this  eternal  Becoming,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Eleatics, 
he  identified  with  the  One.  "  Unite  the  whole  and  the 
not-whole,"  he  argues,  "  the  coalescing  and  the  not-co- 
alescing, the  harmonious  and  the  discordant,  and  thus  we 
have  the  one  Becoming  from  the  all,  and  the  all  from 
the  One." 

Not  to  these  sources,  however,  but  to  Spinoza  (1677), 
must  Pantheism,  as  it  influences  thought  in  our  day,  be 
traced.  This  celebrated  man  was  a  Jew,  dark-featured, 
slender,  delicate,  emaciated,  consumptive,  who  was  pub- 
licly excommunicated  from  the  congregation  of  his  ances- 
tors on  account  of  the  belief,  or  unbelief,  that  was  in  him. 
The  views,  which  he  never  took  pains  to  conceal,  not  only 
resulted  in  his  expulsion  from  the  synagogue,  but  con- 
5 


66  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

demned  him  to  a  life  of  toil  and  indigence.  He  obtained 
enough  for  his  absolute  necessities  by  polishing  lenses; 
and  in  a  forlorn  Dutch  chamber  at  The  Hague,  forsaken 
by  friends,  and  ridiculed  by  enemies,  he  worked  out  his 
philosophical  system,  which,  while'  fiercely  assailed  and 
vulnerable  at  several  points,  remains  a  monument  of  its 
author's  genius  and  industry.  His  death  occurred  when 
he  was  only  forty-five  years  old,  younger  than  Goethe  and 
Kant  were  when  they  began  to  give  the  world  the  fruit  of 
their  reading  and  thinking.  While  Christians  must  de- 
plore the  perversion  of  his  great  talents,  they  should  care- 
fully avoid  alluding  to  him  as  one  who  has  no  claims  on 
their  charity  and  respect.  He  was  no  moral  monster,  no 
hard-hearted  wretch,  no  callous  profligate.  His  only  vice 
was  the  comparatively  harmless  one  of  smoking,  his  only 
villainy  arraying  spiders  against  each  other  in  battle,  and 
his  principal  amusement  the  struggle  of  flies  caught  in  the 
web  of  their  mortal  insect-antagonists.  He  was  reverent 
in  spirit,  devout,  not  to  say  religious,  blameless  in  life,  and 
uncomplaining  in  death.  While  we  differ  from  him,  then, 
let  us  not  depreciate;  while  we  combat  his  theories,  let  us 
not  calumniate  his  character. 

A  comprehensive  idea  of  his  philosophy  may  be  gath- 
ered, not  only  from  his  own  writings,  but  from  those  of 
his  biographers,  annotators,  and  expositors  —  such  as  G. 
H.  Lewes,  Emile  Saisset,  Schelling,  Hegel,  Hunt,  Morell, 
and  Cousin.  In  his  own  words  we  have  this  summary: 
"The  foundation  of  all  that  exists  is  the  one  eternal 
substance,  which  makes  its  actual  appearance  in  the 
double  world  of  thought,  and  of  matter  existing  in  space. 
Individual  forms  emerge  from  the  womb  of  this  substance, 
as  of  ever- fertile  nature,  to  be  again  swallowed  up  in 
the  stream  of  life.  As  the  waves  of  the  sea  rise  and 
sink,  so  does  individual  life  arise  to  sink  back  again 
into  that  common  life  which  is  the  death   of   all   indi- 


TEACHINGS   OF   SPINOZA.  67 

vidual  existence."  Victor  Cousin,  in  his  History  of  Phi- 
losophy, gives  the  following  statement  of  his  doctrine: 
"  With  Spinoza  the  single  substance  is  all,  and  the  indi- 
viduals are  nothing.  This  substance  is  not  the  nominal 
unity  of  the  assemblage  of  individuals,  each  of  which 
exists  singly,  but  is  the  single  really  existing  substance, 
and  in  the  presence  of  that  substance  the  world  and  men 
are  but  shadows;  so  that  from  the  Ethics  may  be  gath- 
ered an  exaggerated  Theism,  which  leaves  no  individual 
existing  as  such."  M.  Saisset,  a  critic  of  no  mean  ability, 
describes  our  philosophic  Jew  as  holding  that  "  God  sleeps 
in  the  mineral,  dreams  in  the  animal,  and  awakens  into 
consciousness  in  the  man  ";  and  Luthardt,  regarding  Hegel 
as  a  disciple  of  Spinoza,  represents  him,  in  common  with 
Morell  {Historical  and  Critical  View,  vi,  10  J^  155),  as 
maintaining  "that  the  absolute  is  the  universal  reason, 
which,  having  first  buried  and  lost  itself  in  nature,  recov- 
ers itself  in  man,  in  the  shape  of  self-conscious  mind,  in 
which  the  absolute,  at  the  close  of  its  great  process,  comes 
again  to  itself,  and  comprises  itself  in  unity  with  itself. 
This  process  of  mind  is  God.  Man's  thought  of  God  is 
the  existence  of  God.  God  has  no  independent  being  or 
existence;  He  exists  only  in  us.  God  does  not  know  him- 
self; it  is  we  who  know  Him."  That  is,  to  sum  up  these 
various  representations,  consubstantiation  of  the  finite  and 
Infinite,  of  the  natural  and  Supernatural,  of  the  human 
and  Divine;  and  transubstantiation,  through  which,  mys- 
teriously, one  becomes  the  other  and  yet  remains  the  same, 
are  the  two  leading  and  all-comprehensive  articles  of  the 
Pantheistic  creed. 

The  extent  to  which  these  views  prevail  in  our  time  is 
not  generally  realized.  They  appear  with  more  or  less 
distinctness  in  the  writings  of  Emerson.  His  Oversold 
is  an  eloquent,  though  somewhat  incoherent,  species  of 
Pantheism;  and  in  Theodore  Parker's  works,  especially  in 


68  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

his  Discourse  on  Religion,  numerous  passages  occur  which 
manifest  his  sympathy  with  Schleiermacher's  drift  in  the 
same  direction.  Cultivated  people  admire  Spinoza,  and 
the  class  of  sentiments  now  widely  current  in  literature, 
which  grow  out  of  his  philosophy,  are  cherished  on  account 
of  their  poetic  sweetness,  little  attention  being  bestowed 
on  their  accuracy  or  value.  They  do  not  pause  to  con- 
sider the  effect  morally  and  theologically  of  a  system, 
which  in  many  instances  they  are  pleased  with,  but  do 
not  understand,  and  whose  claims  on  their  attention  as 
rational  beings  they  have  never  taken  pains  to  examine. 
Believing,  as  I  do,  that  its  influence  is  disastrous,  I  desire, 
within  the  insufficient  limits  of  a  sermon,  to  point  out  its 
radical  defects  in  such  a  way  as  to  lay  a  broad  foundation 
for  a  more  intelligible  and  salutary  Theism.  In  doing  so  I 
shall  argue: 

First,  That  Godhood  without  personality  is  Godhood 
without  perfection; 

Second,  That  manhood  without  individuality  is  man- 
hood without  responsibility; 

Third,  That  morality  without  liberty  is  morality  with- 
out virtue. 

Fourth,  That  immortality  without  consciousness  is  im- 
mortality without  existence. 

Our  notion  of  personality  is  derived  from  what  we  see 
of  it  in  the  world;  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  it  seems 
incompatible  with  any  adequate  idea  of  the  infinite  or 
absolute.  Limitation  and  limitlessness  cannot,  with  log- 
ical consistency,  be  predicated  of  the  same  being.  To  say 
that  God  is  infinite,  as  we  understand  the  term,  is  to  say 
that  He  is  entirely  unconditioned;  and  for  Him  to  be 
unconditioned  is  for  Him  to  be  impersonal;  and  converse- 
ly, to  say  that  He  is  personal,  that  is,  conditioned,  is  to 
say  that  He  is  not  infinite;  and  to  say  that  He  is  not  infi- 
nite is  to  deny  that  He   is  God,      This   is  the  dilemma 


SPINOZA   ON   THE   INFINITE.  69 

which  has  confronted  everyone  who  has  seriously  consid- 
ered the  philosophy  of  Spinoza,  and  which  has  driven  many 
into  the  denial  of  personality,  that  they  might  preserve 
the  notion  of  infinitude.  Nor  do  I  see  any  other  course 
open  for  us  if  we  continue  to  employ  these  terms,  as  they 
are  usually  defined.  If  we  regard  the  meaning  which  is 
assigned  to  them  as  complete  and  exhaustive,  then  we 
must  admit  that  they  are  irreconcilable  with  each  other. 
But  in  all  candor,  is  it  not  too  much  to  claim  that  human 
reason  has  fathomed  the  nature  of  the  infinite,  and  com- 
prehended in  full  all  that  is  really  involved  in  personality, 
for  it  to  pronounce  dogmatically  on  the  possibility  or  im- 
possibility of  their  coexistence  ?  After  all,  what  we  really 
know  in  these  directions  is  very  vague  and  shadowy  and 
much  too  indefinite  for  us  to  found  a  coherent  and  consist- 
ent system  on.  They  who  take  the  trouble  to  read  Sir 
W.  Hamilton,  and  Dean  Mansel,  and  the  replies  which 
have  been  made  to  their  metaphysical  theories  by  Mr.  Mill 
and  Mr.  Spencer,  must  be  convinced  that  while  we  un- 
doubtedly know  that  the  infinite  is,  we  do  not  know  in 
any  true  sense  what  it  is.  As  Dr.  Porter  says  of  one  of 
the  terms  in  debate:  "Originally,  and  etymologically,  it 
signifies  freed  from,  or  severed.  This  signification  is 
purely  negative,  and  waits  to  be  explained  by  that  from 
which  it  is  freed."  That  our  knowledge  is  not  complete, 
accurate,  scientific  and  sufficiently  reliable  to  serve  as  a 
basis  for  an  unyielding,  positive  theory  has  never  been 
more  fully  demonstrated  than  by  Spinoza  himself.  He 
writes:  "I  understand  by  God  the  Absolutely  Infinite 
Being;  that  is  to  say,  substance  constituted  by  an  infinity 
of  attributes,  each  of  which  expresses  an  eternal  and  in- 
finite essence."  {Ethics,  p.  4.  Van  Nostrand's  edition.) 
But  may  it  not  be  asked,  in  all  modesty,  if  God  is  abso- 
lutely infinite,  how  comes  it  that  He  is  "constituted"? 
and  if  "  substance  "  is  constituted  by  an  infinity  of  attri- 


70  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

butes,  how  is  it  possible  for  it  to  be  what  Spinoza  himself 
affirms  it  to  be,  "  that  which  exists  of  itself,  and  is  con- 
ceived by  and  through  itself,  or  that  of  which  the  concep- 
tion can  be  formed  without  having  need  of  the  conception 
of  any  other  thing  as  its  cause  "  ?  Now  it  seems  evident 
to  me,  if  God  is  substance,  and  if  substance  is  that  "  the 
conception  of  which  does  not  involve  the  conception  of 
any  other  thing,"  then  He  is  not  "  constituted  by  an  in- 
finity of  attributes";  but  if  He  is  thus  constituted,  then 
He  is  not  "  that  which  is  in  itself,  and  is  conceived  by 
itself,"  and  therefore  He  is  not  absolute,  or  absolutely 
infinite.  Thus,  following  these  contradictory  statements, 
we  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  even  Spinoza  could  not 
define  infinity  without  destroying  it,  and  that  therefore  to 
erect  a  house  on  a  foundation  so  unsubstantial  is  to  pro- 
vide in  advance  for  its  utter  demolition. 

Let  the  unconquerableness  of  our  ignorance  on  this 
point  be  conceded,  and  let  it  also  be  granted  that  God's 
personality  should  not  be  likened,  in  every  respect,  to  our 
own,  but  should  be  taken  as  simply  denoting  that  He  is 
separable  from  His  works,  and  is  wise,  loving,  merciful 
and  free,  and  we  shall  at  least  feel  the  difficulty  of  recon- 
ciliation so  far  abated  that  it  will  cease  to  be  insuperable. 
If  we  are  not  prepared  to  do  this  we  shall  assuredly  do 
worse;  we  shall  rashly  sacrifice  His  perfection  in  our  zeal 
for  His  infinitude;  for  an  impersonal  Deity  can  never  be 
other  than  an  imperfect  one.  To  deny  His  supreme  con- 
sciousness, wisdom,  volition  and  sovereignty,  as  is  done  by 
Pantheism,  is  to  rob  Him  of  what  we  cannot  but  regard 
as  among  His  chiefest  glories.  That  devout  instinct  which 
prompts  us  to  acknowledge  Him  as  infinite,  impels  us  to 
ascribe  to  Him  the  attributes  of  intelligence,  and  stripped 
of  these  He  is  destitute  of  what  most  powerfully  affects 
the  human  soul  for  good.  If  He  cannot  be  conceived  as 
thinking,  willing,  decreeing,  then  all  of  His  manifestations 


THE   IMPERFECT   INFINITE.  71 

of  Himself  must  be  thought  of  as  determined  by  some- 
thing else, —  some  omnipotent  necessity,  some  all-govern- 
ing law,  or  some  self-unfolding  and  self-sustaining  force  — 
so  that,  in  reality,  He  ceases  to  be  Supreme;  and  thus  in 
our  extreme  solicitude  for  impersonalism  we  render  im- 
possible His  Godhood. 

But  Pantheism  assails  His  perfection  at  other  points. 
If  He  is  identified  with  the.  universe,  then  He  is  mobile, 
mutable  and  variable,  and  is  in  a  state  of  perpetual 
flux  and  change.  As  there  has  been  development  in 
nature,  so  if  He  is  one  with  it,  there  has  been  develop- 
ment in  God.  He  is  not,  according  to  this  supposition, 
what  He  has  been,  and  is  not  what  He  will  be,  and  there- 
fore has  not  yet  fully  attained  to  what  He  may  be,  and 
must  be.  It  is  not  correct  then,  if  this  theory  is  admissi- 
ble, ever  to  say  that  God  is,  but  that  He  is  becoming;  for 
what  He  is  now  He  was  not  at  an  earlier  stage  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  universe,  and  what  He  will  be  at  a  later  period 
He  has  not  been  heretofore.  This  is  not  a  caricature  of 
the  doctrine  we  are  considering,  for  it  is  but  another  way 
of  putting  the  statement  already  quoted,  in  which  God  is 
represented  as  arriving  at  self-consciousness  in  man.  But 
such  a  conception  is  irreconcilable  with  the  idea  of  per- 
fection; for  if,  as  Schelling  says,  "there  is  one  force,  one 
alternating  agency,  one  weaving,  one  impulse,  one  tend- 
ency toward  ever  higher  life,"  while  it  may  be  attained 
in  the  future  it  has  never  been  reached  in  the  past;  and 
until  it  is  attained,  if  we  worship  at  all  we  are  worshiping 
the  Imperfect.  It  was  the  recognition  of  this  outcome  of 
Pantheistic  premises  that  led  M.  Saisset  indignantly  to 
exclaim:  "Away  from  me,  vain  phantoms  of  the  imagina- 
tion! God  is  eternally  all  that  He  is.  If  He  is  the  Cre- 
ator, He  creates  eternally.  If  He  creates  the  world,  it  is 
not  from  chance  or  caprice,  but  for  reasons  worthy  of 
Himself;    and  these   reasons    are   eternal."     Yes,   as   the 


72  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

Scriptures  teach,  He  is  forever  the  same,  and  "  His  years 
have  no  end." 

This  criticism  may  legitimately  be  carried  yet  further; 
for  if  impersonalism  is  true,  and  God  and  the  universe  are 
convertible  terms,  then  everything  that  exists,  evil  as  well 
as  good,  wrong  as  well  as  right,  impurity  as  well  as  purity, 
must  be  ascribed  to  Him, —  must  be  traced  to  His  nature, 
and  be  found  in  His  essence.  While  we  witness  in  the 
world  much  that  is  deserving  admiration  and  homage,  we 
cannot  fail  also  to  perceive  much  to  fill  us  with  pain  and 
loathing.  Deceitfulness,  violence,  cruelty,  heartlessness, 
viciousness,  licentiousness,  lawlessness, —  these  rage  and 
riot,  filling  the  earth  with  bitterness  and  woe.  From 
them  the  healthy  mind  shrinks  with  anguish  and  horror; 
it  condemns  the  guilty,  and  seeks  to  restrain  the  malig- 
nant power  of  wickedness.  But  in  this,  if  we  are  to  credit 
Pantheism,  it  is  wasting  an  immense  amount  of  feeling; 
for  that  which  kindles  its  indignation,  after  all,  is  only 
an  expression  of  the  Supreme  whom  we  are  bound  to 
worship.  Wrong  doing,  and  every  species  of  abomination, 
we  must  regard,  in  the  light  of  this  philosophy,  as  Divine 
effluxions,  and  therefore  as  unmeriting  condemnation. 
But  is  it  possible  to  think  of  such  a  Being  as  absolutely 
faultless?  And  is  it  possible,  when  we  regard  the  neces- 
sary strife  between  good  and  evil  as  an  actual  warfare 
in  His  own  members, —  for  such  it  is  if  both  spring 
from  His  nature,  and  are  equally  its  counterpart, —  not 
to  conclude  that  whatever  else  may  be  affirmed  of  Him, 
perfection  certainly  can  not.  Verily,  when  God  is  set 
forth  as  everything,  He  rapidly  degenerates  into  noth- 
ing; when  He  is  sought  everywhere,  at  last  He  is  found 
nowhere;  and  when  He  is  refined  into  impersonal  Infinity, 
He  speedily  becomes  imperfection,  unlimited  and  incalcu- 
lable. 

The   sense  of  responsibility  is  inseparable   from   man- 


MORAL    LIBERTY.  73 

hood,  and  the  recognition  of  individuality  is  inseparable 
from  responsibility.  But  if,  as  this  Ism  teaches,  humanity 
is  but  part  of  the  Universal  Soul,  and  particular  men  but 
rays  of  the  all-pervading  Spirit,  then  individuality  is  prac- 
tically annihilated,  and  with  it  falls  everything  that  sug- 
gests the  idea  of  moral  freedom  and  obligation.  Spinoza 
does  not  shrink  from  avowing  this  as  his  belief.  He  says 
explicitly:  "Free  will  is  a  chimera,  nattering  to  our  pride 
and  in  reality  founded  upon  our  ignorance.  All  that  I  can 
say  to  those  who  believe  that  they  can,  by  virtue  of  any 
free  decision  of  the  soul,  speak  or  be  silent, —  or,  to  use  a 
single  word,  act, —  is  that  they  dream  with  their  eyes 
open."  Ignorance!  dreams!  —  Is  there,  then,  nothing  but 
fallacy  reigning  in  the  vast  domain  of  right  and  wrong? 
Let  us  take  an  appeal  from  such  a  suspicion  to  fact 
and  we  shall  find  that  there  is  nothing  more  real  than  the 
consciousness  of  "the  me"  in  distinction  from  "the  thee," 
and  of  "the  thine"  in  contradistinction  to  "the  mine," — 
terms  with  which  the  sense  of  moral  duty  is  indissolubly 
blended.  We  do  not  and  we  cannot,  unless  it  be  sympa- 
thetically, identify  ourselves  with  each  other,  and  no  effort 
of  the  imagination  succeeds  in  making  us  feel  that  we  are 
absolutely  one  with  Deity.  He  may  influence  us,  dwell  in 
us  even,  but  we  never  fail  to  distinguish  between  His 
existence  and  our  own,  and  His  operation  is  never  con- 
founded with  our  own  volition.  We  discriminate  instinct- 
ively and  uniformly  between  the  Temple  and  the  Being 
who  dwells  there,  and  between  His  inspiration  and  our 
own  action.  No  amount  of  philosophy  or  theology  has 
ever  eradicated,  or  even  seriously  diminished,  this  sense 
of  individuality,  and  we  may  conclude  that  its  vitality  is 
due  to  the  fact  that  it  answers  to  an  unimpeachable  real- 
ity. In  no  other  way  can  it  be  intelligibly  explained,  and 
any  system  that  antagonizes  with  it  must  in  the  nature  of 
things  be  radically  erroneous.     It  will  not  be  denied  that 


74  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

obligation  is  a  fiction,  a  morbid  illusion,  unless  each  man 
is  a  complete  and  separate  existence.  If  he  is  not,  then 
everything-  like  moral  conviction  is  a  chimera,  a  deceitful 
hallucination.  But  is  it  not  strange  that  such  an  ignis 
fatuus  and  fantastic  mirage  as  this,  if  such  it  is,  should 
have  proven  so  incalculably  advantageous  to  society,  and 
should  have  led  it  forward  step  by  step,  as  this  has  done, 
in  the  march  of  progress?  Indeed,  it  is  more  than  strange, 
it  is  unaccountable.  Fancies,  imaginations,  are  not  the 
weapons  by  which  the  real  evils  of  life  are  overcome,  and 
illusions  have  never  yet  cleared  the  way  for  permanent 
advancement.  Believe  me,  there  is  something  more  in 
this  abiding  sense  of  responsibility  than  the  Pantheist  will 
allow.  It  is,  and  endures,  because  man  is  a  being,  not 
an  effluence,  and  is  related  to  other  beings,  and  is  not  so 
identified  with  them,  or  merged  into  them,  that  reciprocal 
rights  are  meaningless  and  reciprocal  duties  impossible. 
Obligation  rests  on  individuality,  and  the  realization  of 
the  one  will  be  proportionate  to  the  consciousness  of  the 
other;  and  if  this  is  a  true  account  of  the  matter  the 
theory  that  strikes  at  either  must  be  fatally  defective. 
And  that  it  is  may  be  inferred  from  sentiments  expressed 
by  brilliant  men  who  are  more  or  less  influenced  by  Spi- 
noza's teachings.  For  instance,  Goethe,  in  his  Hymn  to 
Nature,  seeks  to  pacify  his  conscience  in  the  following 
convenient  way:  "She  placed  me  in  it;  she  will  also  lead 
me  forth.  I  trust  myself  to  her.  She  may  dispose  of  me. 
She  will  not  hate  her  work.  I  spake  not  of  her.  No: 
whatever  is  true  and  whatever  is  false  she  spake  it  all. 
All  is  her  fault  and  all  her  merit."  Thus  does  the  roman- 
tic German  dispose  of  troublesome  misgivings  concerning 
accountability.  And  our  American  transcendentalist  gives 
it  as  his  opinion  that  "  Nature  as  we  know  her  is  no 
saint."  "The  lights  of  the  church,  the  ascetics,  Gentoos 
and  Grahamites,  she  does  not  distinguish   by  any  favor; 


MORALITY    AND    VIRTUE.  75 

she  comes  eating  and  drinking  and  sinning."  .  .  .  "My 
friend  suggested:  'But  these  impulses  may  be  from  below, 
not  from  above.'  I  replied,  'They  do  not  seem  to  me  to 
be  such,  but  if  I  am  the  devil's  child  I  will  live,  then,  for 
the  devil.  No  law  can  be  sacred  to  me  but  that  of  my 
own  nature.'"  The  tendency  of  such  sentiments  as  these, 
and  they  are  creeping  into  our  literature  more  persistently 
and  commonly  than  many  suspect,  cannot  be  at  all  doubt- 
ful. However  harmless  they  may  have  been  to  their  au- 
thors, if  generally  adopted  and  acted  on  by  the  unedu- 
cated and  miseducated  masses  of  society,  they  would 
speedily  convert  them  into  the  children  of  Satan,  and 
change  this  beautiful  earth  of  ours  into  a  howling  Pande- 
monium. 

In  one  of  the  propositions  brought  to  your  attention  at 
the  beo-irmino-  of  this  discussion  I  ventured  a  statement 
which  draws  a  wide  distinction  between  morality  and  vir- 
tue. These  terms,  I  know,  are  usually  regarded  as  syno- 
nyms, and  yet,  admitting  that  they  are,  it  does  not  follow 
that  they  are  identical  in  meaning.  They  may  present,  as 
I  believe  they  do,  very  different  shades  of  the  same  thought. 
"Morality,"  in  my  opinion,  suggests  right  conduct;  but 
the  word  "virtue"  expresses  the  real  worth  and  merit 
which  attaches  to  such  conduct.  A  man  may  be  moral  in 
all  of  his  dealings,  and  be  influenced  only  by  a  cold,  calcu- 
lating spirit  of  policy,  or  he  may,  in  all  that  he  does,  be 
but  a  fortunate  creature  of  circumstances.  There  is,  how- 
ever, no  strength  of  conviction  in  such  a  course  of  life,  no 
firmness  of  principle,  no  resistance  of  evil;  in  a  word,  no 
"strength," — an  element  which  the  term  "virtue"  always 
implies.  If  this  is  absent  from  what  we  call  moral  con- 
duct, its  chief  charm  is  gone,  and  we  are  inclined  to  treat 
its  pretensions  with  contempt.  Probably  this  estimate 
springs  from  the  fact  that  the  presence  of  the  high  quality 
which  imparts  grandeur  to  conduct  involves  selfhood,  the 


76  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

exercise  of  volition,  the  assertion  of  liberty.  Without 
freedom  there  could  be  no  choice  of  a  path  in  life,  no  pur- 
suit of  the  right  in  the  face  of  difficulties,  and  no  resistance 
of  wrong  even  at  immense  personal  sacrifice;  and  so  with- 
out freedom  there  would  in  reality  be  no  virtue;  and  with- 
out virtue  there  would  hardly  be  anything  in  morality  to 
distinguish  it  from  mere  decorum.  Permit  me  to  illustrate 
this  distinction  yet  further.  Let  us  suppose  the  case  of 
one  so  rigidly  trained  in  the  practice  of  integrity,  so  care- 
fully shielded  from  temptation,  and  so  free,  from  childhood, 
of  everything  like  human  appetite,  or  passionate  desire, 
that  never  a  thought  of  wandering  occurs,  and  never  an 
inclination  to  err  is  felt;  the  life  of  such  an  one  would  be 
admirable,  and  would  kindle  our  esteem,  but .  it  would 
never  arouse  in  us  enthusiasm  and  ardent  praise.  The 
morality  in  it  would  be  acknowledged,  and  would  be  duly 
and  apathetically  approved,  but  it  would  not  be  regarded 
as  exhibiting  the  grand  reality  of  virtue.  Such  blameless- 
ness  must  be  viewed  as  natural,  and  therefore  as  unavoida- 
ble, and  if  unavoidable,  as  undeserving  of  any  special  com- 
mendation. But  when  a  soul,  like  Plato's  suffering  right- 
eous man,  is  surrounded  with  circumstances  unfavorable 
to  right-doing,  when  he  is  beset  with  evils  of  every  de- 
scription, when  he  is  afflicted,  crushed  and  wronged,  and 
yet  never  deviates  from  the  straight  line  of  duty,  we 
instinctively  recognize  something  higher  than  mechanical 
morality,  something  exalted  and  noble,  challenging  our 
homage  and  awakening  our  reverence.  We  see  that  such 
an  one  might  have  been  expected  to  yield  to  these  over- 
whelming odds,  and  when  he  overcomes,  we  discern  the 
power  of  volition,  of  freedom;  wTe  recognize  a  sublime 
"strength"  asserting  itself  on  the  side  of  integrity,  and 
we  call  that  strength  "  virtue; "  and  in  it  we  feel  that  our 
highest  ideal  of  virtue  is  actualized.  But  suppose  such 
choice  were  never  possible;    suppose  that  human  beings 


PANTHEISTIC    IMMORTALITY.  77 

were  always  creatures  of  necessity;  that  the  good  they 
performed  was  simply  the  result  of  forces  in  them,  unorigi- 
nated  or  uncontrolled  by  themselves;  then  at  the  best 
their  morality  would  hardly  be  distinguishable  from  im- 
morality. If  Pantheism  is  true,  this  is  actually  the  case. 
There  being  nothing  but  God,  and  God  being  everything, 
human  volition  is  not  in  any  real  sense  free,  and  con- 
sequently, while  there  may  be  outwardly  correct  conduct, 
virtue  in  its  deepest  sense  is  unattainable.  This  Spinoza 
candidly  admits.  "  Nothing,"  he  says,  "  is  bad  in  itself. 
Good  and  evil  indicate  nothing  positive  in  things,  consid- 
ered in  themselves,  and  are  nothing  but  manners  of  think- 
ing. Not  only  has  every  man  the  right  to  seek  his  good, 
his  pleasure,  but  he  cannot  do  otherwise."  —  Works  of 
Spinoza,  vol.  i, pp.  159-60. 

What  shall  we  say,  then,  to  a  system  which,  in  its  in- 
sane endeavors  to  establish  a  metaphysical  subtlety, —  to 
uphold  a  conception  which  may  be  as  baseless  as  it  is  per- 
plexing,—  deliberately  undermines  the  foundations  of  vir- 
tue and  deprives  society  of  its  mightiest  incentives  to 
noble  living  ?  We  can  only  say  that,  as  its  speculations 
antagonize  with  what  is  eminently  practical  and  vital,  how- 
ever sublime  they  may  seem  they  are  self-condemned,  and 
are  undeserving  of  support. 

What  a  fiction  is  the  immortality  which  Pantheism 
encourages  its  disciples  to  expect.  To  return  to  the  uni- 
versal soul,  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  Infinite,  to  be 
merged  in  the  Supreme,  to  lose  identity  and  conscious- 
ness, is  the  destiny  it  suavely  proclaims.  It  is  a  euphonic 
description  of  annihilation,  and  nothing  more.  What  dis- 
cernible difference  is  there  between  this  blank  eternity 
and  the  coarse  teachings  of  Materialism  ?  According  to 
both,  the  light  that  is  in  us  must  go  out,  and  we  return 
to  the  oblivion  whence  we  came.  The  Materialist  fore- 
shadows a  future   for   us   all  in   the  dewy  grass,  to   be 


78  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

munched  by  the  lowing  herd;  in  the  fragrant  flowers, 
to  be  trampled  under  foot  of  men;  in  the  swift  sailing, 
evanescent  cloud,  or  in  the  varied  forms  of  animal  and 
human  life.  We  are  to  reappear  in  the  coming  genera- 
tions, and  our  decay  is  to  nourish  their  vitality.  The 
Pantheist  teaches  that  we  shall  go  back,  not  indeed  to 
the  dull  earth,  but  to  what  he  is  pleased  to  call  "  God." 
In  Him  we  shall  happily  cease  to  think,  to  love,  and  to  be. 
The  dewdrop  shall  mingle  with  the  Sea,  the  wandering  ray 
shall  be  withdrawn  into  the  bosom  of  primal  Light,  and 
the  little  ego  be  quenched  in  the  all-absorbing  and  ever- 
lasting "I  Am"  of  the  universe.  And,  according  to 
Emerson,  all  human  beings,  of  whatever  moral  character, 
shall  equally  attain  to  this  questionable  felicity;  for  "the 
divine  effort  is  never  relaxed;  the  carrion  in  the  sun  will 
convert  itself  into  grass  and  flowers,  and  man,  though  in 
brothels,  in  jails,  or  on  gibbets,  is  on  his  way  to  all  that 
is  truly  good." 

But  this  self-oblivion  and  self-extinction  in  the  Infinite 
One  is  not  the  intuitive  hope  of  humanity,  nor  is  it  the 
promise  of  Revelation.  The  natural  longing  of  the  heart 
is  for  personal  immortality, —  for  endless  conscious  exist- 
ence. This  is  what  is  meant  by  all  that  poets  and  phi- 
losophers, untainted  by  Pantheism,  have  written  on  the 
subject,  and  this  is  what  the  unuttered  and  unutterable 
visions  of  the  Beyond  mean  to  the  undying  soul.  To 
live  continuously,  to  defy  the  power  of  death,  to  ascend 
to  higher  ranges  of  existence,  to  meet  the  great  and  good 
who  have  gone  before,  to  welcome  the  noble  and  the  pure 
who  shall  come  after,  and  to  enjoy  eternally  the  fellow- 
ship of  the  saved, —  this  is  the  radiant  hope  that  sustains 
us  here  and  invests  hereafter  with  its  charm  and  glory. 
Why  should  we  thrust  it  from  us?  Why  should  we  for 
a  moment  listen  to  the  doleful  croaking  of  a  Strauss,  who, 
shrouded  in  "the  blanket  of  the  dark,"  mutters  harshly 


THE   TRUE   THEISM.  79 

"that  the  last  enemy  to  be  destroyed  is  not  death,  but  the 
•  hope  of  immortality  ?  "  Why  accept  such  dreary  forebod- 
ings and  deny  the  profoundest  instinct  of  our  being  for 
the  sake  of  a  mere  abstraction  ?  Why  doubt  the  reality  of 
the  immortality  we  feel  for  the  sake  of  a  guess  about  the 
nature  of  the  Infinite,  which  we  cannot  verify  ?  Too  much 
is  asked,  too  little  is  given  in  return;  and  when  it  is  real- 
ized that  eternal  life  must  be  repudiated,  and  virtue,  in- 
dividuality, and  even  Divine  perfection,  must  be  sacrificed 
if  the  truth  of  Pantheism  is  allowed,  we  do  not  hesitate 
to  declare  that  the  vastness  of  its  demands  should  be  suf- 
ficient proof  to  every  candid  mind  of  its  untenableness. 

In  closing  this  study  permit  me  to  set  before  you  two 
additional  propositions  which  in  my  judgment  express  the 
only  Theism  that  is  rational  and  deserving  the  confidence 
of  intelligent  beings: 

First,  God  is  the  source  of  nature,  not  its  essence; 
and  nature  is  the  manifestation  of  God,  not  His  fullness. 

Second,  God  is  the  inspiration  of  humanity,  not  its 
soul;  and  humanity  is  the  similitude  of  God,  not  His  sub- 
stance. 

The  first  of  these  propositions  asserts  a  difference  be- 
tween the  Creator  and  His  work.     Schellino-  declares  that 

o 

"all  individual  finite  things  taken  together  cannot  consti- 
tute God,  since  that  which  is  in  nature  derived  cannot  be 
one  with  its  original."  This  is  just  what  I  believe,  and 
consequently  I  see  in  the  great  universe  a  revelation  of  its 
author,  but  not  His  substance  nor  His  essence.  He  is 
above  all,  back  of  all,  and  through  all  the  reality  of  His 
being  and  the  greatness  of  His  Godhead  may  be  seen. 
Nature  is  His  temple,  and  it  is  like  that  one  of  glass  which 
the  sun-worshipers  built  that  their  deity  might  stream  in 
and  be  with  them;  it  is  transparent,  and  through  its  walls 
and  through  its  starry  roof  He  reveals  Himself,  as  the  light 
penetrates  and  shines  through  the  flinty  crystal.     There  is 


80  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

something  that  beams  on  you  from  the  flower,  that  sparkles 
in  the  water,  that  gleams  in  the  sun's  radiance,  and  in  the 
moon's  quiet  luster;  something  that  oppresses  you,  and  yet 
exalts  you  in  the  gigantic  magnitudes  of  the  heavens,  and 
in  the  dense  forests  and  overpowering  solitudes  of  the  earth, 
which  does  not  answer  to  the  names  you  invent  to  describe 
it.  You  call  it  "beauty,"  or  "sublimity,"  or  "grandeur," 
but  you  feel  that  these  terms  are  inadequate,  that  they 
fall  short  of  truth.  Call  it  God!  Yes,  call  it  God!  for 
God  it  is.  It  is  His  eyes  that  look  down  upon  you  from 
the  stars,  His  smile  that  glances  at  you  from  flower  and 
wave,  His  love  that  answers  yours  in  every  form  of  beauty, 
and  His  awful  greatness  that  appeals  to  you  in  the  won- 
ders of  the  universe.  "  If,"  as  said  the  Psalmist,  "  I 
ascend  up  into  heaven,  Thou  art  there;  if  I  make  my  bed 
in  hell,  behold  Thou  art  there.  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the 
morning  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  even 
there  shall  Thy  hand  lead  me."  Yes,  there,  and  there,  and 
there  —  everywhere.  But  this  is  not  Pantheism.  The 
Almighty  is  not  heaven,  but  in  heaven;  not  hades,  but  in 
hades;  not  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  but  filling  them 
with  His  immeasurable  presence  and  unspeakable  majesty. 
"Of  God,  and  through  Him  and  to  Him  are  all  things;" 
and  nature  that  sprang  from  His  thought,  and  is  sustained 
by  His  power,  is  also  "to  Him," — is  His  symbol,  the 
manifold  expression  of  His  greatness.  Before  Him  she 
breathes  the  incense  of  her  homage,  and  offers  to  Him  the 
tribute  of  her  praise.  She  points  to  Him,  and  with  her 
many  voices  cries  that  to  Him,  not  to  her, —  not  to  the 
temple,  but  to  the  God  who  fashioned  it  and  dwells  in  it, 
—  should  all  people  bring  their  offerings  of  adoring  love. 

Though  the  Almighty  is  not  the  soul  of  humanity  He 
is  its  inspiration,  for  "  in  God  we  live  and  move  and  have 
our  being."  Each  living  thinking  entity  is  His  creation, 
made  for  Himself  and  related  to  Him.     He  moves  upon 


THE   TRUE    PANTHEISM.  81 

mind  and  heart,  begetting  exalted  thoughts  and  holiest 
resolves,  even  as  it  is  written,  "The  inspiration  of  the 
Almighty  giveth  understanding."  He  is  the  real  source 
of  whatever  has  been,  of  whatever  is  great,  good,  noble  or 
heroic  in  mind  and  deed.  Without  Him  cannot  anything 
be  done  that  is  worthy  to  live  in  the  memory  of  earth,  or 
worthy  to  receive  the  reward  of  heaven.  And  yet  the 
doing  is  ours,  not  His.  He  inspired  it,  we  wrought  it  out. 
He  quickened,  but  we  brought  forth.  His  the  heart-beat, 
but  ours  the  hand-stroke;  His  the  influence,  ours  the  efflu- 
ence. Here  man's  true  dignity  is  made  apparent.  It  does 
not  consist  in  his  being  a  fraction  of  the  Godhead,  but  in 
being  a  distinct  existence,  made  so  truly  in  the  Divine 
image  that  he  can  hold  communion  with  his  Maker,  can 
respond  to  the  infinite  One,  can  receive  Him,  abide  in 
Him,  and  live  in  correspondence  with  Him, —  yea,  and  can 
grow  yet  more  fully  into  His  likeness,  and  blend  so  com- 
pletely with  His  spirit,  that  while  personality  is  never 
lost,  He  becomes  to  the  soul  its  All  and  in  All  forever. 

"Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  the  living 
God;  as  God  hath  said,  I  will  dwell  in  them  and  walk  in 
them,  and  I  will  be  their  God  and  they  shall  be  my  peo- 
ple"; and  know  ye  not  "he  who  dwelleth  in  love  dwelleth 
in  God,  and  God  in  him?"  When  humanity  shall  deeply 
realize  the  truth  of  these  declarations,  conscious  of  its 
heavenly  affinities,  it  will  seek  closer  fellowship  with  the 
Highest,  and  attaining  to  that  oneness  for  which  our 
Savior  prayed,  it  will  apprehend  the  only  Pantheism  in 
which  reason  can  believe  or  the  heart  rejoice, —  the  Pan- 
theism which  leads  the  devout  soul  to  sing,  with  Madam 
Guy  on : 

"  I  am  as  nothing,  and  rejoice  to  be, 
Emptied  and  lost,  and  swallowed  up  in  Thee," 

and  which  is  alike  synonymous  with  individual    identity 
and  immortal  blessedness. 
6 


MATERIALISM. 

"  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die."    I  Cor.  a?©,  32. 

"  For  everywhere 
We're  too  materialistic, —  eating  clay 
(Like  men  of  the  West)  instead  of  Adam's  corn 
And  Noah's  wine ;  clay  by  handfuls,  clay  by  lumps, 
Until  we're  filled  up  to  the  throat  with  clay, 
And  grow  the  grimy  color  of  the  ground 
On  which  we  are  feeding.    Ay,  materialist 
The  age's  name  is.    God  Himself  with  some 
Is  apprehended  as  the  bare  result 
Of  what  His  hand  materially  has  made." 

Mrs.  E.  B.  Browning. 

A  FABLE  is  current  in  England  of  a  youth  who 
picked  up  a  piece  of  money  lying  in  the  highway. 
After  this  good  fortune  it  is  said  he  always  kept  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  ground,  hoping  to  find  stray  coins,  and  in  the 
course  of  a  long  life  gathered  from  the  road  and  street 
quite  an  amount  of  gold,  silver  and  copper.  But  during 
all  this  time  he  wTas  depriving  himself  of  greater  treasures. 
As  his  glance  never  wandered  from  the  dusty,  filthy  way 
of  his  feet,  he  never  saw  the  starry  heavens  above  him  nor 
the  glories  of  nature's  scenery  around  him.  He  died  poor. 
Though  he  had  scraped  together  considerable  w7ealth  he 
passed  into  eternity  without  knowing  that  earth  is  some- 
thing more  than  a  dirty  place  where  money  may  be  found 
as  the  journey  is  made  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave. 

For  now  some  years  gone  Science  has  been  disposed  to 
walk  with  its  eyes  down-bent.  Ever  since  it  made  a  few 
important  physical  discoveries,  such  as  the  antiquity  of  the 


MATERIALISM    DEFINED.  83 

globe,  the  procession  and  progress  of  life,  and  brought  to 
light  the  petrified  memorials  of  former  animal  and  veg- 
etable generations,  such  as  the  siliceous  fossil  shells  of  the 
Galionelli,  some  interesting  specimens  of  the  Ichthyosaura, 
the  Plesiosaura,  Mosasaurus  and  the  Iguanodon,  its  gaze 
has  been  steadfastly  centered  on  the  material.  Upon  that  it 
has  lavished  so  much  attention  that  the  universe  has  come 
in  its  philosophy  to  be  the  child  of  cosmic  sparks,  and 
reason  to  be  the  grandchild  of  diffused  fire-mist.  It  is  still 
busy  looking  for  additional  discoveries,  feeling  in  the  mire 
for  wealth.  But  though  it  multiply  its  riches,  it  is  grow- 
ing poorer  and  poorer,  for  it  is  losing  sight  of  God,  Christ, 
angels,  providence  and  immortality,  and  is  groping  its  way 
through  the  world  blind  to  the  real  glory  and  significance 
of  creation,  failing  to  discern  that  nature  is  the  real 
Jacob's  ladder  on  which  celestial  beings  are  ascending  and 
descending,  a  Patmos  isle  in  an  unshored  ocean,  where 
visions  of  invisible  realms  shine  through  all  its  manifold 
shapes  and  forms. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  trace  the  rise  and  progress  of 
this  Ism  from  the  time  of  Leucippus,  Democritus  and  Epi- 
curus to  Feuerbach  and  La  Mettrie,  and  from  them  to  our 
more  modern  evolutionists.  Whatever  peculiarities  or 
variations  may  have  distinguished  it  at  various  points  in 
its  history,  it  has  always  been  substantially  the  same. 
It  has  ever  regarded  the  raw  eternal  matter,  the  elemen- 
tary stuff  of  creation,  as  the  only  substance  and  as  the 
all-sufficient  cause  of  every  variety  and  species  of  life. 
Its  god,  formerly  dwarfed  to  the  meager  proportions  of 
an  atom,  is  now  further  dwindled  to  the  insignificance 
of  a  molecule;  it  is,  however,  the  same  deity,  only  grown 
infinitely  little.  While  it  recognizes  a  scepter,  which 
it  calls  "force,"  it  acknowledges  no  intelligent  hand  to 
sway  it;  while  it  perceives  a  throne,  which  it  honors  with 
the  name  of   "law,"  no  loving,  infinite  Being  is  seen  to 


84  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

reign  there,  and  while  in  original  chaos  it  finds  a  compli- 
cated laboratory  it  discerns  no  all-wise  chemist  regulating 
and  determining  its  subtle  and  mysterious  combinations, 
from  which  universes  proceed.  Materialism,  old  and  new, 
when  stripped  of  its  rhetoric,  simply  writes  "  mindless" 
on  the  dateless  procession  of  things,  and  teaches  that 
these  things  come  from  nowhere,  as  they  are  eternal;  are 
marching  nowhither,  as  they  are  practically  endless,  and 
that  over  them  is  nobody,  as  they  are  self-fashioned  and 
self-sustained.  As  Lucretius  is  reported  to  have  ex- 
pressed it,  "  Nature  is  seen  to  do  all  these  things  spon- 
taneously of  herself,  without  the  meddling  of  the  gods." 
And  man  is  looked  on  as  earth-begotten,  earth-bound, 
and  earth-destined;  and  his  sublimer  and  deeper  aspira- 
tions and   affinities  are  belittled  or  ignored. 

Unquestionably  these  teachings  are  exerting  a  tremen- 
dous influence  on  our  times.  Our  relations  with  the  visi- 
ble are  so  intimate,  our  susceptibility  to  its  impressions  so 
keen,  our  bodily  demands  so  imperative,  and  the  dominion 
of  our  senses  so  absolute,  that  we  are  strongl}r  drawn 
toward  whatever  promises  to  minister  to  the  sway  of  the 
physical.     Shakspeare  wrote: 

"  There's  not  the  smallest  orb  that  thou  behold'st 
But  in  his  motion  like  an  angel  sings, 
Still  quiring  to  the  young-eyed  cherubim : 
Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls, 
But,  whilst  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Doth  grossly  close  it  in,  we  cannot  hear  it." 

That  is,  we  are  so  wrapped  about  with  the  heavy  folds 
of  dull  earthiness  that  we  cannot  always  detect  the  music 
of  the  spiritual  within,  nor  catch  its  echoes  in  the  uni- 
verse without.  We  are,  therefore,  liable  to  be  imposed 
on  by  materialistic  philosophy,  and  to  yield  submission 
when  it  should  be  questioned  and  resisted.  It  has  an 
ally  in  man   himself,  in  the  dominancy  of    the   physical, 


MATERIAL    PROGRESS.  85 

which  may  account  for  its  present  prevalent  potency. 
And  very  likely  the  character  of  our  civilization  itself 
has  enhanced  its  power.  Wherever  we  turn  we  find 
matter  triumphant.  Science  has  laid  bare  the  vastness 
of  its  magnitudes,  has  subordinated  its  forces  to  human 
service,  and  has  rendered  possible  the  magnificent  achieve- 
ments of  machinery  which  lighten  labor  and  promote  in- 
dustry. We  talk  along  wires,  we  fly  along  rails,  we  hear 
through  our  teeth,  we  almost  see  without  eyes,  and  even 
the  supposition  of  Dr.  Bowen  may  become  actual  in  the 
future, —  skill  may  be  able  to  construct  a  wooden  footman 
whose  "  exact  and  unvarying  obedience  may  be  more  than 
could  be  expected  of  any  but  a  superhuman  footman."  If 
it  would  only  give  us  such  a  Bridget,  in  these  days  of 
maid-servant  supremacy,  our  joy  indeed  would  be  full. 
Who  knows  ?  A  new  aim  or  ambition  has  been  developed 
by  the  successes  of  science,  and  instead  of  seeking  prima- 
rily the  culture  of  soul,  we  are  concerned  with  the  con- 
quest and  improvement  of  nature.  Everywhere  we  are 
digging,  delving,  mining,  projecting  railroads,  compassing 
seas,  reclaiming  lands,  and  making  everything  tributary 
to  man's  temporal  gratification  and  comfort.  For  six  days 
in  the  week  we  are  devoted  to  the  interests  of  matter, 
and  begrudge  a  small  portion  of  the  seventh  in  which  to 
consider  the  claims  of  spirit.  Is  it  not,  then,  probable 
that  this  undue  prominence  given  to  one  aspect  of  the 
universe  blinds  us  to  the  reality  of  any  other,  and  dis- 
poses us  to  give  heed  to  a  philosophy  whose  terms  ex- 
clude everything  else? 

Whether  I  have  guessed  the  true  explanation  of  the 
present  widespread  influence  of  materialism  others  must 
judge;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  its  extent  is  such 
that  earnest  words  must  be  spoken,  and  earnest  efforts 
be  made,  if  society  is  to  be  saved  from  bondage  to  the 
sensuous,  and  inspired  anew  with  belief  in  the  supersensu- 


8G  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

ous  and  immortal.  As  contributing  to  this  end,  I  suggest 
the  following  propositions  for  thoughtful  consideration: 

First,  Materialism  is  too  imaginative  to  be  either  sci- 
entific or  reasonable. 

Second,  Materialism  is  too  debasing  to  be  either  credi- 
ble or  attractive. 

Third,  Materialism  is  too  impoverishing  to  be  either 
probable  or  possible. 

The  assumptions  of  this  Ism  are  numerous  and  bold.  It 
asserts  that  matter  is  the  only  substance  in  the  universe, 
or  at  least  the  only  substance  of  which  we  have  any  defi- 
nite knowledge,  or  about  which  we  can  argue  with  cer- 
tainty. For  its  teachings,  consequently,  it  claims  implicit 
confidence  as  being  necessarily  beyond  cavil  and  dis- 
pute. But  surely  it  forgets  that  very  wise  men  have 
questioned  the  reality  of  this  visible  world  to  which  it 
is  so  attached,  and  of  which  it  makes  so  much.  The 
idealism  of  Berkeley,  grounded  in  the  non-existence  and 
impossibility  of  external  nature,  and  the  belief  of  Faraday 
in  the  immateriality  of  physical  objects,  go  far  toward 
proving  that  this  boasted  certainty  is  somewhat  uncertain, 
and  that  the  definite,  after  all,  is  very  indefinite.  As  Pro- 
fessor B.  Stewart,  in  his  Conservation  of  Energy,  says: 
"  The  universe  has  more  than  one  point  of  view,  and  there 
are  possibly  regions  which  will  not  yield  their  treasures  to 
the  most  determined  physicists,  armed  only  with  kilo- 
grammes, and  meters,  and  standard  clocks;  "  and  in  anoth- 
er place  he  adds:  "We  know  nothing,  or  next  to  nothing, 
of  the  ultimate  structure  and  properties  of  matter,  whether 
organic  or  inorganic."  If  he  is  warranted  in  this  state- 
ment, how  purely  fanciful  is  the  assertion  that  substance 
is  one,  and  that  it  is  the  only,  source  of  positive  knowl- 
edge. And  if  this  primary  assumption  is  questionable, 
what  shall  be  said  of  the  second,  that  matter  is  capable, 
through  its  inalienable   properties,  of  evolving  inorganic 


SUPERSTITION  AND   SCIENCE.  87 

forms,  developing,  also,  organic  life  or  growth,  and  even  of 
originating  thought  ?  Here,  assuredly,  we  have  a  tremen- 
dous stretch  of  the  imagination.  The  ancient  savage,  in 
the  dense  depths  of  native  ignorance,  made  to  himself  a 
mud  fetich,  and  attributed  to  it  divine  energies.  We  smile 
at  his  infantile  superstition,  and  we  wonder  that  he  could 
believe  for  a  moment  that  a  wretched  heap  of  plastic  filth 
could  call  into  being  the  beauties  and  utilities  of  creation. 
But  according  to  the  Ism  we  are  studying,  this  primitive 
superstition  is  the  ultimate  goal  of  science.  Extremes 
meet.  The  savage  and  the  scientist  clasp  hands,  and  the 
end  of  investigation  is  found  at  the  beginning.  It  began 
with  the  worship  of  mud;  it  is  ending  with  unworshiped, 
but  deified,  molecules.  Wherein  is  the  difference  ?  Why 
shall  we  stigmatize  the  faith  of  the  savage  as  puerile,  and 
yet  honor  the  theory  of  the  scientist  with  encomiums,  as 
though  it  were  the  expression  of  the  highest  wisdom  ?  Are 
they  not  substantially  the  same  ? 

While  the  essence  of  matter  defies  our  scrutiny,  for 
the  sake  of  proving  that  it  is  capable  of  producing  all 
that  we  see  and  feel,  its  simple  and  primary  definition 
has  been  gradually  enlarged.  New  qualities  have  been 
constantly  ascribed  to  it,  and  as  Dr.  James  Martineau 
quaintly  says,  "  starting  as  a  beggar,  with  scarce  a  rag  of 
1  property '  to  cover  its  bones,  it  turns  up  as  a  prince  when 
large  undertakings  are  wanted,  loaded  with  investments, 
and  within  an  inch  of  a  plenipotentiary."  On  which 
remarkable  phenomenon  he  adds,  addressing  believers  in 
its  almost  boundless  resources:  "In  short,  you  give  it 
precisely  what  you  require  to  take  from  it;  and  when 
your  definition  has  made  it  '  pregnant  with  all  the  future,' 
there  is  no  wonder  if  from  it  all  the  future  might  be 
born."  But  the  endeavors  that  have  been  put  forth  in  this 
direction  have  never  succeeded  in  making  out  that  in  each 
separate  atom  resides  every  force,  every  quality,  every  sen- 


88  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

sation  known  to  thought,  yea,  and  thought  itself,  combined 
with  consciousness  by  which  thought  is  recognized^  and 
anything  short  of  this  is  fatal  to  the  trustworthiness  of  the 
theory  in  debate;  for  the  aggregate  can  never  be  more 
than  an  expression  of  the  unit,  and  the  whole  can  never 
manifest  what  is  not  potentially  in  the  parts.  Locke  wit- 
nesses to  the  validity  of  this  position  in  the  following 
words :  "  Whatsoever  is  first  of  all  things  must  necessa- 
rily contain  in  it,  and  actually  have,  at  least  all  the  perfec- 
tions that  can  ever  after  exist;  nor  can  it  ever  give  to 
another  any  perfection  that  it  hath  not  actually  in  itself, 
or  at  least  in  a  higher  degree;  it  necessarily  follows  that 
the  first  eternal  Being  cannot  be  matter."  The  advocates 
of  materialism,  in  their  reasoning,  constantly  overlook  this 
axiom,  than  which  there  is  none  more  generally  approved 
by  philosophy.  They  are  unable  to  show  that  whatever  is 
in  the  effect  was  first  in  the  cause,  —  that  is,  in  the  cause 
which  they  assign,  —  and,  consequently,  they  are  shut  up 
to  the  illogical  inference  that  there  is  something  in  the 
effect  which  is  traceable  to  no  cause  whatever.  We  can- 
not believe  that  the  greater  springs  from  the  less,  or  that 
something  comes  from  nothing;  and  until  we  are  convinced 
that  our  incredulity  on  this  point  is  irrational,  the  explana- 
tion of  the  universe  which  assumes  that  the  organic  pro- 
ceeded from  the  inorganic,  order  from  disorder,  life  from 
death,  and  thought  from  molecular  motions,  we  must  re- 
gard as  fanciful,  possibly  seductive,  but  very  imaginative, 
and  certainly  immeasurably  less  reasonable  than  that  which 
attributes  all  things  to  an  infinitely  intelligent  and  sov- 
ereign Spirit. 

The  assumption  of  Herbert  Spencer  that  the  ego,  or 
conscious  self,  is  merely  "a  group  of  psychical  states  con- 
stituting an  impulse,"  and  that  of  such  writers  as  Mole- 
schott  and  Buchner  that  thought  is  determined  and  con- 
ditioned  by  phosphorus,  can   hardly  be  considered   other 


MECHANICAL   THEORY    OF   THOUGHT.  89 

than  whimsical  extravagances  of  facetious  science.  Their 
advocates,  however,  at  times  seem  to  be  serious  enough. 
Mr.  Huxley,  for  instance,  appears  to  be  very  much  in 
earnest  when,  in  writing  to  Macmillarts  Magazine  in 
1878,  he  says:  "I  believe  that  we  shall  arrive  at  a  me- 
chanical equivalent  of  consciousness,  just  as  we  have  ar- 
rived at  a  mechanical  equivalent  of  heat,"  and  adds:  "even 
those  manifestations  of  intelligence  and  feeling  which  we 
rightly  name  the  higher  faculties  are  not  excluded  from 
this  classification."  But  when  the  famous  protoplasmist, 
in  his  Lay  Sermons,  confesses  that  how  "anything  so  re- 
markable as  a  state  of  consciousness  comes  about  as  the 
result  of  irritating  nervous  tissue,  is  just  as  unaccountable 
as  the  appearance  of  the  Djin  when  Aladdin  rubbed  his 
lamp,"  we  half  suspect  him  of  indulging  in  a  little  sly 
humor  at  our  expense  when  he  penned  the  first  of  these 
statements,  as  in  the  second  he  seems  to  attach  as  much 
value  to  it  as  he  does  to  one  of  the  Arabian  Nights'  mar- 
velous stories.  Certainly  they  are  not  altogether  consist- 
ent with  each  other,  and  on  the  authority  of  his  Lay  Ser- 
mon we  may  with  propriety  question  the  soundness  of  his 
doctrine  in  the  magazine,  and  from  the  bearing  of  both 
conclude  that  the  mechanical  theory  of  thought  is  but  a 
wild  speculation,  incapable  of  verification. 

Such  writers  as  Dr.  Maudsley  soberly  enough  maintain 
that  "  the  nerve-cells,  which  exist  in  countless  numbers  — 
about  six  hundred  millions  according  to  Meynert's  calcula- 
tions —  in  the  gray  matter  spread  over  the  surface  of  the 
hemispheres,  are  the  nervous  centers  of  ideas;"  or,  accord* 
ing  to  the  explanations  given  by  others,  "  thought  is  a  func- 
tion of  the  brain,  and  brain  secretes  thought  as  the  liver 
secretes  bile."  It  is  undeniable  that  a  most  intimate  rela- 
tion exists  between  mental  phenomena  and  the  brain.  No 
one  familiar  with  the  literature  on  the  subject  would  think 
of  calling  it  in  question.     The  brain  seems  to  be  in  some 


90  ISMS    OLD   AND    NEW. 

way  the  organ  of  mind,  but  to  identify  them,  or  to  assume 
that  there  is  nothing  but  brain,  or  that  it  alone  is  the 
source  of  thought,  is  in  my  judgment  to  transgress  the 
modesty  of  true  science.  This  also  seems  to  be  the  opin- 
ion of  Professor  Tyndall.  In  his  Fragments  of  Science 
he  expresses  himself  on  this  subject  in  these  terms:  "In 
affirming  that  the  growth  of  the  body  is  mechanical,  and 
that  thought,  as  exercised  by  us,  has  its  correlative  in  the 
physics  of  the  brain,  I  think  the  position  of  the  Materialist 
is  stated,  as  far  as  that  position  is  a  tenable  one."  .  .  . 
"  I  do  not  think  that  he  is  entitled  to  say  that  his  molec- 
ular groupings  and  his  molecular  motions  explain  every- 
thing. In  reality  they  explain  nothing.  The  utmost  he 
can  affirm  is  the  association  of  two  classes  of  phenomena, 
of  whose  real  bond  of  union  he  is  in  absolute  ignorance. 
The  problem  of  the  connection  of  body  and  soul  is  as  in- 
soluble in  its  modern  form  as  it  was  in  the  prescient ific 
ages." — pp.  119,  120.  And  it  is  well  known  that  Vir- 
chow,  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  German  scientists,  when 
opposing  the  proposition  of  Haeckel  and  Nageli  that  ma- 
terialistic doctrines  should  be  introduced  into  the  system 
of  public  instruction,  said  very  decidedly:  "So  long  as  no 
one  can  define  for  me  the  properties  of  carbon,  hydrogen, 
oxygen,  and  nitrogen  in  such  a  way  that  I  can  conceive 
how,  from  the  sum  of  them,  a  soul  arises,  so  long  am  I 
unable  to  admit  that  we  should  be  at  all  justified  in  im- 
porting the  plastidulic  soul  into  the  course  of  our  educa- 
tion." 

But,  assuming  that  various  and  striking  considerations 
can  be  adduced  in  favor  of  what  is  called  "  Cerebral  Psy- 
chology," let  us  note  whither  it  tends.  For  instance,  on 
this  hypothesis  the  bulk  of  the  head  and  the  measure  of 
its  contents,  a  healthy  body  being  granted,  ought  to  de- 
cide the  quality  of  a  man's  intellectual  life.  Pure  blood 
should  be  more  needful  than  what  we  denominate  educa- 


CEREBRAL    PSYCHOLOGY.  91 

tion.  Physical  organs  should  be  nourished  with  substan- 
tial food,  not  with  ideas.  What  is  it  that  we  now  attempt 
to  educate  in  our  schools  ?  When  we  set  about  training 
a  boy,  what  portion  of  him  is  it  that  receives  attention  ? 
Is  it  said  that  we  try  to  cultivate  the  brain  ?  But,  if  so, 
are  we  not  employing  singular  methods  ?  We  are  actually 
trying  to  build  up,  strengthen,  and  develop  the  material 
through  the  immaterial.  If  this  hypothesis  is  tenable  we 
should  rather  provide  wholesome  physical  diet  than  innu- 
tritious  knowledge;  and  if  Moleschott  is  right  when  he 
says,  " Ohne  Phosphor ',  Kein  G-edanTse"  then  we  should 
feed  phosphorus  to  our  youth  and  cram  them  as  full  of 
phosphorus  as  possible.  And  yet,  were  their  heads  as  full 
of  it  as  the  sea,  it  would  be  no  guaranty  of  exceptional 
brilliancy.  Men  who  have  been  deprived  of  nourishing- 
food,  who  have  toiled  m  poverty,  have  conferred  on  the 
race  the  most  enduring  triumphs  of  thought,  and  others, 
like  Milton,  Spinoza,  Cervantes,  Bunyan,  and  Burns,  pro- 
duced their  masterpieces  when  in  pinched  want  or  in  deep 
affliction;  while  many  who  wrere  reared  in  affluence,  who 
were  both  strong  bodied  and  large  headed, —  and  had  all 
the  phosphorus  they  desired, —  have  continued  to  the  end 
mental  drones.  This  ought  not  to  be  so  if  mechanical 
cerebration  is  true,  and  it  cannot  be  explained  unless  it 
is  acknowledged  that  the  thinking  subject  is  different 
from  brain-tissues  and  nerve-centers,  and  at  times  is  capa- 
ble of  surmounting  their  imperfections. 

And  this  is  a  conclusion  to  which  we  are  impelled  by 
other  considerations.  Instinctively  we  discriminate  be- 
tween ourselves  and  our  surroundings,  and  between 
"  something "  which  we  regard  as  "  self "  from  the  body 
in  which  it  dwells.  We  are  conscious  of  an  existence 
which  does  not  change  with  the  flux  and  flow  of  the  phys- 
ical, and  which  we  identify  as  the  same  in  age,  manhood, 
and   vouth.     Moreover,  this  "  something"  is  able  to  an- 


92  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW, 

tagonize  with  the  body,  to  resist  it  and  overcome  it;  and 
in  so  doing  feels  a  distinctness  from  it  and  a  superiority 
over  it,  and  finds  itself  haunted  with  ideas  of  the 
infinite,  the  impersonal,  the  absolute,  the  abstract,  which 
it  in  vain  tries  to  trace  to  "  the  gray  matter  "  of  the  brain 
or  to  the  outward  forms  of  the  universe.  This  "  some- 
thing "  we  call  "  soul,"  "  spirit,"  perfectly  distinguishable 
from  the  other  substance  by  its  phenomena,  and  which  is 
conscious  of  its  own  existence  and  its  own  agency,  and 
which  is  therefore  beyond  the  reach  of  doubt.  To  deny 
its  reality  is  to  disregard  the  most  unanswerable  evi- 
dence, and  prefer  the  region  of  chimera  for  that  of  fact. 
This  is  the  judgment  of  many  sober  thinkers,  and  is  ex- 
pressed by  "  one  of  the  most  eminent  physicists  of  Eng- 
land," Prof.  P.  G.  Tait,  who,  as  quoted  by  Dr.  Bowen  in 
Literary  Gleanings, remarks:  "To  say  that  even  the  very 
lowest  forms  of  life,  not  to  speak  of  its  higher  forms,  still 
less  of  volition  and  consciousness,  can  be  fully  explained 
on  physical  principles  alone  —  that  is,  by  the  mere  relative 
motions  and  interactions  of  portions  of  inanimate  matter, 
however  refined  and  sublimated  —  is  simply  unscientific. 
There  is  absolutely  nothing  known  in  physical  science 
which  can  lend  the  slightest  support  to  such  an  idea." 
Such  principles  certainly  cannot  account  for  the  won- 
derful aptitudes  which  distinguish  some  children,  and 
which  under  the  circumstances  cannot  be  ascribed  to  the 
influence  of  education,  such  as  the  mathematical  ability  of 
Pascal,  which  asserted  itself  when  he  was  twelve  years 
old,  as  the  musical  genius  of  Mozart  revealing  itself  in  an 
opera  composed  when  he  was  only  eight  summers  in  the 
world,  or  the  artistic  inspiration  of  West,  or  the  military 
instincts  of  Napoleon.  Here  we  meet  with  a  phenomenon 
which  "  nothing  known  in  physical  science  "  can  explain, 
and  which  strengthens  the  conviction  that  this  entire 
theory  is   a   day-dream,   phantom,  fiction   of  fairyland,  a 


MIND   IN   ANIMALS.  93 

rhapsody  of  visionary  romancers  and  of  scientific  knights- 
errant,  which  has  no  foundation  in  the  empire  of  facts, 
and  should  be  discarded  from  the  realm  of  faith  unless  it 
should  be  accepted  on  the  basis  of  "  Credo  quia  ab- 
surdwn." 

Were  its  imaginativeness  the  only  ground  of  objection 
we  could  afford,  perhaps,  to  treat  it  with  indifference,  but 
unhappily  it  is  debasing,  and  therefore  its  claims  should  be 
seriously  challenged.  The  effort  recently  made  by  Professor 
Lindsay  to  identify  the  brute  mind  with  the  human  is  one 
that  tends  to  obscure,  if  not  to  lessen,  the  sense  of  moral 
obligation,  and  to  degrade  the  race  to  a  lower  level  than 
it  occupies  at  present.  He  relates  some  wonderful  stories 
about  animals,  which  could  be  matched  with  others 
equally  striking,  and  he  leaves  the  impression,  though  he 
does  not  aim  to  advocate  any  special  doctrine,  that  man 
differs  only  in  degree,  not  in  kind,  from  his  humbler  asso- 
ciates. Interesting  though  his  volumes  are,  they  by  no 
means  succeed  in  bridging  the  chasm  that  separates  the 
human  from  the  animal.  The  inventive  faculty,  the  pow- 
ers of  ratiocination  and  abstraction,  the  moral  sense,  and 
the  gift  of  language,  are  among  the  chief  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  such  a  result.  In  the  Descent  of  Man  we  find 
this  discriminating  objection:  "A  moral  being  is  one  who 
is  capable  of  comparing  his  past  and  future  actions  and 
motives  —  of  approving  of  some  and  disapproving  of 
others;  and  the  fact  that  man  is  the  one  being  who  with 
certainty  can  be  thus  designated  makes  the  greatest  of  all 
distinctions  between  him  and  the  lower  animals."  Such 
testimony  from  such  a  quarter  ought  to  counteract  the 
effect  of  Dr.  Lindsay's  inconclusive  effort  to  establish  the 
opposite  view.  And  when  it  is  realized  that  no  adequate 
explanation  of  either  reason  or  speech  can  be  given  on  his 
hypothesis,  it  may  be  dismissed  as  untenable.  Sussmilch, 
in   1764,   argued   the    impossibility  of   language   without 


94  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

thought,  and  of  thought  without  language;  and  if  any- 
such  close  connection  exists  between  them  as  he  main- 
tained, then  it  is  certain  that,  as  all  skill  has  failed  to 
teach  animals  to  speak,  for  the  mere  automatic  imitation 
of  sounds  is  not  speech,  what  is  called  thought  in  the 
brute  and  thought  in  the  man  are  incapable  of  being  clas- 
sified together.  The  German  whom  Dr.  Bowen  quotes  as 
saying,  "  I  will  believe  that  animals  have  reason  when  one 
of  them  tells  me  so,"  in  reality  disposes  of  the  whole  ques- 
tion at  issue;  for  when  they  find  their  tongue  they  will 
have  found  reason,  and  when  that  comes  to  pass  we  may, 
without  discredit  to  our  own  intellect,  acknowledge  theirs. 
In  his  anxiety  to  make  good  his  position,  Dr.  Lindsay 
says:  "Even  as  regards  man  himself,  it  must  be  borne  in 
mind  .  .  .  that  there  are  countless  thousands  —  many 
whole  races  —  that  are  intellectually  and  morally  the  infe- 
rior of  many  well-trained  mammals,  such  as  the  chimpan- 
zee, orang,  dog,  elephant,  or  horse,"  etc.  But  this  is  not  a 
fair  and  ingenuous  statement  of  the  case;  for  the  savage 
can  hardly  be  found  who  entirely  fails  to  feel  the  force 
of  "ought"  and  "ought  not;"  and  there  is  no  animal  in 
the  world,  however  carefully  trained,  who  knows  anything 
about  them,  or  is  in  the  least  degree  conscious  of  them. 
But,  after  all,  this  is  a  question  of  capacity,  not  of  train- 
ing. Under  the  most  scrupulous  discipline  the  dog  re- 
mains a  dog;  up  to  a  certain  point  he  can  be  taught, 
and  beyond  it  he  cannot  go.  A  recent  writer  has  repre- 
sented the  canine  "as  a  candidate  for  humanity";  but  it 
may  be  safelyT  said  that  he  has  never  yet  succeeded  in 
securing  an  election.  On  the  other  hand,  no  limit  can  be 
placed  to  man's  development.  He  can  advance  indefi- 
nitely, and  from  the  lowest  form  of  intellectual  life  rise  to 
the  highest.  The  race  has  a  capacity  that  is  not  shared 
by  the  dog;  individuals  may  possess  it  in  different  de- 
grees as  canine  aptitudes  differ,  but  the  human  nature,  as 


MATERIALIZING    LIFE.  95 

such,  is  not  to  be  classed  with  the  brute  nature,  for  even 
in  its  degradation  it  is  infinitely  higher,  as  its  possibilities 
are  infinitely  greater.  These  comparisons,  in  my  opinion, 
are  always  to  be  deplored,  not  merely  because  they  rank 
some  men  lower  than  beasts,  but  because  they  leave  the 
impression  on  many  that  essentially  they  do  not  rank 
above  them.  If,  however,  they  are  to  be  trusted,  then 
thought  is  automatic,  volition  is  mechanical,  and  the  ideas 
of  responsibility  and  duty  are  illusions;  our  noblest  and 
purest  emotions  are  due  to  a  highly  sensitive  sensorium 
and  a  symmetrically  arranged  ganglia,  and  all  that  is 
divine  in  man  dies  out.  If,  as  has  been  maintained  by  an 
English  author,  "  the  conduct  of  the  elephant  and  of  the 
tiger  depends  on  their  structure,  and  so,  therefore,  does 
that  of  man,"  then  we  must  abandon  the  doctrine  that  he 
has  any  will  that  can  initiate  action,  we  must  abrogate  the 
ideas  of  guilt  and  innocence,  and  we  should  seek  to  edu- 
cate him  as  we  train  other  animals,  by  processes  suited  to 
automata.  No  words  can  do  justice  to  the  degrading 
influences  of  such  teachings.  They  lead  men  to  regard 
themselves  as  creatures  of  necessity,  whose  actions  are  no 
more  praiseworthy  or  blameworthy  than  those  of  the  cat 
or  dog,  and  they  gradually  stifle  and  smother  the  con- 
sciousness of  manhood,  without  which  no  heroic  sacrifices 
or  generous  deeds  are  possible. 

As  a  result  of  this  Ism  we  find  that  modern  life  is 
pretty  thoroughly  materialized.  Of  those  who  are  striv- 
ing and  struggling  in  this  and  other  lands,  how  few  there 
are  who  have  set  before  them  any  other  object  than  the 
accumulation  of  wealth..  For  this  they  abandon  home  and 
friends,  spend  sleepless  nights  and  toilsome  days,  and  en- 
dure enough  of  pain,  mortification  and  anguish  to  make 
them  martyrs  in  a  holier  cause.  True,  the  desire  for  gain 
is  frequently  subordinate  to  some  other  end;  but  how 
rarely  is  it  anything  radically  better.     In  many  cases  the 


96  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

ambition  is  for  means  to  satisfy  luxurious  tastes,  to  gratify 
senseless  pride  and  vanity.  Mansions,  servants,  carriages, 
horses,  delicate  wines,  rare  pictures,  rich  laces,  and  ele- 
gant appointments  are  valued  on  account  of  the  favorable 
impression  regarding  their  possessor  which  they  are  sup- 
posed to  make  on  a  world  which  evermore  walks  by  sight 
and  not  by  faith.  It  may  be  that  love  of  pleasure,  or  of 
power,  rank,  and  office,  or  of  the  windy  praise  of  his  fel- 
lows, stimulates  man  to  strive,  but  even  these  aims  are  of 
the  earth  earthy.  They  certainly  fall  infinitely  below 
what  they  should  be.  To  an  appalling  extent  the  people 
around  us  live  without  any  pronounced  desire  to  know 
God,  indifferent  to  communion  with  Him,  and  careless  of 
their  immortal  destiny.  They  do  not  seem  to  realize 
that  they  are  other  than  a  higher  sort  of  animal,  and  do 
not  recognize  any  obligation  to  unfold  the  God-likeness  in 
them,  or  to  reveal  the  goodness  and  beauty  of  the  Re- 
deemer in  their  character  and  conduct.  So  absorbed  is 
the  ordinary  mind  in  the  terrible  struggle  for  existence 
that  is  going  on,  so  intently  is  it  concentrated  on  sordid 
interests,  that  it  is  quite  unfitted  for  spiritual  concerns. 
Consequently  attempts  to  read  the  Scriptures  fail,  the 
letters  change  to  rows  of  figures,  and  the  shortest  road 
to  affluence  seems  more  important  than  finding  the  surest 
way  to  heaven.  In  prayer  terrestrial  riches  strangely 
blend  with  the  celestial,  and  supplications  take  on  the 
tone  of  the  market  rather  than  the  devoutness  of  the 
altar.  These  too  common  experiences,  combined  with  the 
reluctance  of  many  to  go  to  church  at  all,  and  the  anxiety 
of  more  to  get  out  again  after  they  have  entered,  show 
how  the  prevailing  philosophy  of  our  times  is  gradually 
hardening,  withering,  and  blighting  the  spiritual  in  hu- 
manity. Can  such  a  system  be  credible?  Can  we  regard 
it  as  attractive?  Credible!  Can  that  be  credible  which 
can  only  be  established  at  the  cost  of  all  that  is  great  and 


YANG    CHOO    AND    EMERSON.  97 

good  in  man  ?  Attractive  !  Can  that  be  attractive  which 
allies  us  with  brutes,  and  which  buries  all  our  fair  ideals 
in  mud  and  slime  ?  Attractive  possibly  to  worms  wrig- 
gling in  the  earth,  and  to  swine  grunting  over  their  swill, 
but  assuredly  not  to  men;  not  at  least  to  those  who  will 
open  their  eyes  wide  enough  to  recognize  the  quagmire 
into  which  it  is  perceptibly  sinking  them. 

Already  we  perceive  how  ruthlessly  this  Ism  plunders 
and  impoverishes  the  race,  and  therefore  only  a  few  more 
words  need  be  added  on  this  point.  Practically  it  robs 
the  soul  of  God.  Mr.  Emerson,  in  The  Unitarian 
JZeview,  tries  to  estimate  the  extent  and  painfulness  of 
this  loss.  He  deplores  "the  solitude  of  the  soul  that 
is  without  God  in  the  world,"  and  likens  it  to  "aimless, 
fatherless  Cain,"  "who  hears  only  the  sound  of  his  own 
footsteps  in  God's  resplendent  creation."  To  such  a 
one  "heaven  and  earth  have  been  deprived  of  beauty, 
the  sun  of  its  power  to  cheer,  and  every  great  thought 
of  its  power  to  inspire."  Here,  indeed,  is  bankruptcy! 
Take  away  God,  and  the  beggarly  inventory  of  what  is 
left  is  not  worth  the  reading.  Not  satisfied  with  de- 
priving us  of  God,  Materialism  also  plunders  life  of 
everything  that  makes  it  tolerable.  It  niches  from  the 
unsuspecting  soul  the  sense  of  immortality,  and  in  return 
leaves  some  such  melancholy  Gospel  as  that  which  Yang 
Choo  comforts  his  disciples  with:  "All  are  born  and  all 
die;  the  intelligent  and  the  stupid,  the  honorable  and  the 
mean.  At  ten  years  old  some  die;  at  a  hundred  years  old 
some  die.  The  virtuous  and  the  sage  die;  the  ruffian  and 
the  fool  also  die.  Alive,  they  were  Yaou  and  Shun,  the 
most  virtuous  of  men;  dead, they  are  so  much  rotten  bone. 
Alive, they  were  Klee  and  Chow,  the  most  wicked  of  men; 
dead,  they  are  so  much  rotten  bone.  While  alive,  there- 
fore, let  us  hasten  to  make  the  best  of  life;  when  about  to 
die,  let  us  treat  the  thing  with  indifference,  and  seeking 
7 


98  ISMS    OLD    A.ND    NEW. 

to  accomplish  our  departure,  so  abandon  ourselves  to 
annihilation."  One  shudders  as  he  reads.  Yet  this  same 
death's-head  philosophy,  only  skillfully  adorned  with  flow- 
ers, is  that  which  is  current  among  high  and  low  in  Europe 
and  America.  No  wonder  that  existence  becomes  insuf- 
ferably wearisome,  unendurable  and  drearisome  when  it  is 
overshadowed  by  such  a  upas.  The  perpetual  and  mean- 
ingless clatter,  the  endless  and  senseless  rattle  of  this 
soulless  mechanism  which  we  call  life;  signifying  and  end- 
ing in  nothing,  can  hardly  fail  to  evoke  gloominess  and 
despair.  Hence  so  many  are  wretched  who  seem  to  have 
everything  needful  for  happiness,  and  so  many  are  groan- 
ing who  have  every  earthly  reason  to  rejoice.  Prosperity, 
palaces,  pictures,  pleasures,  cannot  satisfy  the  cravings  of 
the  soul,  and  after  the  excitement  is  passed  which  was 
experienced  in  their  pursuit,  there  is  nothing  to  sustain 
and  satisfy.  The  question  is  now  being  asked,  -'Is  life 
worth  living  ?  "  and  it  is  being  as  frequently  answered  by 
the  grave  of  the  suicide.  In  the  light  of  Materialism  it  is 
not.  Why  should  one  strive,  why  plod  on  beneath  oppress- 
ive burdens,  why  endure  the  agonies  and  shame  of  time, 
when  oblivion  in  the  quiet  grave  is  so  easy?  Apart  from 
God,  emptied  of  spiritual  meaning  and  deprived  of  eter- 
nal hope,  life  is  a  curse,  and  no  wonder  if  its  unsatisfac- 
tory experiences  and  cruel  disappointments  madden  the 
intellect,  darken  the  heart,  and  drive  the  weary  one  to  the 
repose  of  death.  Well  has  Mr.  Malloch  summed  up  this 
intense  and  utter  degradation  when  he  trenchantly  writes: 
"To  bring  into  men's  minds  eternal  corruption,  instead  of 
eternal  life, —  or,  rather,  not  corruption,  I  should  say,  but 
putrefaction.  For  what  is  putrefaction  but  decomposi 
tion  ?  And  at  the  touch  of  science  all  our  noblest  ideas 
decompose  and  putrify  till  our  whole  souls  are  strewed  with 
dead  hopes  and  dead  religions,  with  corpses  of  all  the 
thoughts  we  loved 


INCREDIBLE.  99 

"  'Quickening  slowly  into  lower  forms.'  " 

Can  that  be  a  true  philosophy  which  pauperizes  exist- 
ence, and  that  converts  the  fair  earth  into  a  potter's  field, 
where  beggars  may  find  a  refuge  with  worms,  and  hide 
their  tattered  wretchedness  in  the  cold,  narrow  bed  of 
annihilation  ?  True  ?  When  hell  is  true,  when  devils  are 
not  false,  and  when  wrong  and  error  are  not  deceitful,  it 
may  be  true.  But  not  till  then.  Not  till  things  most 
certain  become  uncertain,  the  harmonies  of  the  universe 
be  out  of  tune,  and  the  foundations  of  eternal  verities  be 
shaken,  can  such  a  monstrous,  rapacious  theory  be  proba- 
ble to  reason  or  possible  to  faith.  Unhappy  the  soul  who 
has  been  deceived  by  it,  who  has  surrendered  his  sense  of 
immortality  to  its  block  and  ax,  and  who  stumbles  along 
over  the  ruins  of  once-cherished  hopes  and  beliefs  toward 
extinction.  For  him  no  sweet  voices  sing  welcome  in  the 
far  Beyond;  for  him  no  land  of  beauty  unseen  by  mortal 
eye  unfolds  its  loveliness;  for  him  no  Savior  stands  with 
extended  arms  inviting  to  the  mansions  blessed,  and  for 
him  no  endless  vistas  of  unsurpassed  and  unsurpassable 
glory  open  as  the  scenes  of  time  recede.  No;  all  is  dark, 
cold,  forbidding.  Every  sunrise  only  hastens  impending 
doom,  every  grave  but  tells  of  sad,  irreparable  decay,  and 
every  sunset  is  to  him  only  the  gorgeous,  flaunting  herald 
of  annihilation.  Annihilation  is  the  burden  of  every  mur- 
muring wind;  it  is  articulated  in  the  rustle  of  autumnal 
leaves;  it  is  roared  in  the  thunder  clap,  and  seared  into 
his  soul  by  the  lightning's  shaft  that  splinters  to  naught 
the  giant  of  the  woods.  This  is  to  him  the  one  sad  mes- 
sage of  creation;  and  all  the  voices  within  him  and  with- 
out sent  by  the  Almighty  to  assure  him  of  everlasting  life 
have  turned  false  prophets  to  his  heart,  and  mutter  death, 
only  death, — nothing  but  death. 

"While  we  deplore  these  insatiate  ravages,  we  rejoice 


100  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

that  the  power  of  Materialism  is  less  than  its  malignancy. 
It  may  destroy  our  ideals,  it  may  crush  our  hopes,  it  may 
debase  our  life,  it  may  lead  us  to  doubt  the  being  of  God 
and  the  eternity  of  man,  but  it  can  go  no  farther.  It  may 
triumph  over  our  faith  in  the  realities  against  which  it 
strives;  but  it  never  can  prevail  against  the  realities  them- 
selves. It  cannot  empty  the  universe  of  God,  cannot 
strike  Him  from  His  throne,  or  wrest  the  scepter  from  His 
hand.  In  this  we  will  rejoice  and  be  glad;  yea,  and  we 
will  shout  for  joy,  because  it  is  equally  impotent  in  its  war 
against  humanity.  It  cannot  dispossess  the  soul  of  im- 
mortality, cannot  rob  it  of  that  endless  life  which  is  its 
glory,  nor  drown  it  in  the  seas  of  drear  oblivion,  nor  doom 
it  to  the  "Realm  of  Nothingness'': 

"  The  stars  shall  fade  away,  the  sun  himself 
Grow  dim  with  age,  and  nature  sink  in  years ; 
But  Thou  shalt  flourish  in  immortal  youth, 
Unhurt  amidst  the  war  of  elements, 
The  wreck  of  matter  and  the  crash  of  worlds." 

Of  this  we  are  assured,  and  in  this  confidence  will  we 
rejoice;  and  while  we  struggle  with  the  thickening  fogs 
of  cold  Materialism  this  hope  shall  sustain  us,  that  the  sun 
of  truth,  which  for  the  moment  it  obscures  but  cannot 
extinguish,  shall  once  more  and  forever  stream  through 
the  misty  veil,  and  with  the  night-scattering  wings  of 
light  chase  away  the  sorrows  and  the  shadows  which  have 
settled  on  too  many  souls,  and  enshrouded  them  in  gloom 
too  long: 


NATURALISM 

"  Upholding  all  things  by  the  word  of  His  power."    Hebrews  i,  3. 

"There  is  a  power 
Unseen  that  rules  the  illimitable  world, 
That  guides  its  motions,  from  the  brightest  star 
To  the  least  dust  of  this  sin-tainted  mold ; 
While  man,  who  madly  deems  himself  the  lord 
Of  all,  is  naught  but  weakness  and  dependence." 

Thomson. 

ARISTOTLE  thought  that  Anaxagoras  talked  like  a 
-£X_  sober  man,  because  he  rejected  the  transcendental- 
ism of  the  Greek  Pantheists,  and  advocated  a  system 
which  recognized  the  reality  of  the  visible  universe,  and 
attributed  the  existence  and  variety  of  material  forms  to 
the  creative  mind  of  God.  Socrates,  also,  for  the  same 
reason,  was  at  first  disposed  to  admire  the  philosopher  of 
Clazomense.  "Having  one  day,"  he  says,  "read  a  book 
of  Anaxagoras,  who  said  the  Divine  mind  was  the  cause 
of  all  things,  and  drew  them  up  in  their  proper  ranks  and 
classes,  I  was  ravished  with  joy.  I  perceived  that  there 
was  nothing  more  certain  than  this  principle."  But  more 
intimate  acquaintance  with  his  writings  did  not  confirm 
this  good  opinion.  Socrates  soon  discovered  that  Anaxa- 
goras failed  to  inculcate  sound  views  regarding  a  superin- 
tending and  sustaining  Providence,  and  criticised  him 
accordingly  in  these  terms:  "He  makes  no  further  use  of 
this  mind,  but  assigns  as  the  cause  of  the  order  and  beauty 
that  prevails  in  the  world,  the  air,  water,  whirlwind,  and 
other  agencies  of  nature."  It  seems  that  this  father  of 
anti-transcendental  theologies,  while  ascribing  the  origin 

101 


102  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

of  all  things  to  God,  did  not  teach  that  He  upholds  them, 
governs  or  interferes  with  them  in  any  way,  except,  at 
times,  to  correct  their  derangements  or  to  avert  their 
destruction.  His  was  the  machine  theory  of  the  Cosmos, 
which  represents  the  Almighty  as  imparting  to  the  works 
of  His  hands  certain  forces,  and  subordinating  them  to 
specific  laws,  and  then  as  withdrawing  from  them  to  some 
remote  retreat  in  infinite  solitude,  from  whence  to  contem- 
plate with  serene  satisfaction,  or  serener  indifference,  their 
self-supporting  and  ceaseless  operations.  Such  a  philoso- 
phy, in  which  the  Creator  is  comparable  (to  employ  a 
Carlylian  similitude)  to  a  "clockmaker  that  once,  in  old 
immemorial  ages,  having  made  his  Horologe  of  a  Universe, 
sits  ever  since  and  sees  it  go,"  was  not  to  the  liking  of 
Socrates.  In  his  judgment  it  was  radically  defective,  in- 
sufficient and  inconclusive,  stopping  far  short  of  the  truth, 
and  subversive  of  its  fundamental  postulate. 

The  theory  of  an  involved,  boundlessly  complex,  and 
automatic  system  of  worlds,  rejected  by  the  Athenian 
sage,  has  been  revived  in  our  day,  and  has  grown,  and  is 
growing,  in  tumultuous  popularity.  While  Naturalism  in 
its  extreme  form  is  atheistic,  as  in  the  remarkable  treatise 
of  Baron  D'Holbach,  in  its  more  moderate,  if  not  more 
consistent  shape,  it  concedes  the  Divine  existence.  It 
assumes  that  God  is,  and  that  He  is  necessary  to  account 
for  the  beginning  of  things;  but  it  discredits  the  belief 
that  He  is  indispensable  to  their  maintenance,  takes  any 
direct  interest  in  the  affairs  of  His  creatures,  and  either 
can  or  will  interfere  on  their  behalf.  Naturalism,  consid- 
ered as  a  theistic  scheme,  dispenses  with  the  Almighty 
after  He  has  made  the  universe,  and  assumes  that,  being 
completely  made,  it  is  abundantly  able  to  take  care  of 
itself.  Its  favorite  illustration,  probably  derived  from 
Anaxagoras,  by  which  it  seeks  to  make  plain  to  the  sim- 
plest  understanding    the    character    of    its    teachings,    is 


WHAT   IS   NATUKALISM  ?  103 

founded  on  the  structure  and  action  of  complicated  ma- 
chinery. An  engine,  for  instance,  is  fashioned  by  human 
intelligence  and  skill,  arranged  in  harmony  with  particular 
principles,  constructed  to  accomplish  a  specific  end,  capa- 
ble of  generating  steam,  its  motive  force,  and  supplied 
with  adequate  fuel.  Then,  by  the  same  intelligence,  it  is 
started  on  its  journey,  and  afterward  it  runs  along  the  rails 
independent  of  its  contriver,  propelled  by  its  own  inherent 
energies  and  in  obedience  to  its  own  fundamental  laws. 
The  engineer  may  be  drunk,  asleep,  or  dead;  the  locomo- 
tive will,  all  the  same,  pursue  its  journey  as  far  as  the 
route  extends,  and  as  long  as  the  steam  endures.  This,  it 
is  claimed,  is  a  fair  description  of  God's  relation  to  the 
universe.  He  called  matter  into  being,  endowed  it  with 
various  properties  and  with  all-sufficing  potencies,  molded, 
distributed  and  organized  it  according  to  a  predetermined 
plan;  and  then,  having  shaped  his  suns  and  stars,  and 
fixed  the  boundaries  of  their  orbits,  having  rounded  the 
earth,  and  furnished  it  with  animals,  plants  and  human 
puppets,  and  having  provided  for  every  possible  contin- 
gency; that  is,  having  finished  his  enormous,  complicated 
machine,  with  its  jagged  wheels  and  ponderous  hammers, 
He  removed  His  hand,  gave  the  word  of  command,  and 
the  whole  began  to  move,  and  has  been  moving  ever  since. 
If  this  analogy  is  justifiable,  then  from  the  creative  hour 
"  not  wanted  "  might  have  been  written  on  the  throne  of 
God.  For  if  He  has  from  the  beginning  stored  up  in 
nature  all  the  forces  requisite  for  its  operations,  neither 
His  sleep  nor  death  would  have  hindered  or  varied  them  in 
the  least,  or  have  made  any  jDerceptible  or  practicable 
difference.  And  if  the  theory  which  is  thus  illustrated  is 
correct,  and  the  Creator  has  withdrawn  from  His  works, 
having  committed  them  to  the  vicegerency  of  all-potent 
second  causes,  then  prayer,  of  course,  is  useless,  provider 


104  ISMS    OLD   AND    NEW. 

tial  care  is  a  myth,  and  light  or  help  from  any  other  source 
than  nature  an  absolute  impossibility. 

And  this  is  just  what  the  Ism  we  are  examining  asserts. 
It  denounces  as  the  fruit  of  ignorance  and  superstition  the 
belief  that  God  is  approachable,  or  can  in  any  sense  be 
influenced  by  His  creatures,  or  ever  interposes  in  behalf 
of  their  well-being.  To  even  entertain  such  thoughts  is 
reprobated  as  a  sign  of  the  weakness  of  man's  reason,  and 
of  the  strength  of  his  vanity.  We  are  exhorted  to  look 
upon  the  world,  to  study  the  past  and  the  present,  that 
we  may  see  how  utterly  groundless  these  conceptions 
are.  We  are  told  that  man  will  be  found  at  the  period  of 
densest  mental  darkness  attributing  every  strange  phe- 
nomenon of  nature  and  every  remarkable  event  of  history 
to  supernatural  interposition;  but  that  as  he  advances  in 
knowledge  he  gradually  discovers  his  mistake,  and  repudi- 
ates his  former  superstition.  In  our  day  much  that  was 
regarded  as  the  result  of  superhuman  agencies  is  easily 
explained  by  natural  causes.  Continually  we  are  solving 
mysteries  before  which  our  ancestors  trembled;  and  in  a 
little  while  we  shall  be  able  to  account  for  everything  with- 
out falling  back  on  God,  angels,  or  devils.  Just  in  pro- 
portion as  the  intellect  expands  will  the  domain  of  the 
semi-miraculous  diminish,  until  it  dwindles  down  to  a  point 
too  imperceptible  for  faith  to  build  on.  Naturalism  also 
asks,  what  more  can  be  needed  for  the  moral  culture  and 
religious  training  of  the  race  than  the  wonders  and  glories 
of  creation,  interpreted  by  science  and  apprehended  by 
reason  ?  These  surely  must  be  efficacious  to  restrain  from 
evil,  to  inspire  goodness,  and  to  kindle  devotion.  By  their 
side,  how  mean,  inadequate  and  powerless  do  cathedrals, 
with  their  tawdry  decorations,  and  churches,  with  their 
silly  preachings,  appear.  Why  puzzle  our  heads  and  pain 
our  hearts  concerning  revelations  and  gospels,  when  the 
true  word  of  the  Lord  flames  on  us  from  the  heavens  and 


A    FORSAKEN   WORLD.  105 

is  articulated  by  the  earth?  But  whether  sufficient  or 
not,  this  is  all  we  have  or  can  have;  He  has  spoken  once — 
in  creation  —  He  has  not  spoken  since,  and  never  will 
speak  again.  To  expect  Him  to  open  His  sacred  lips  for 
man's  behoof  is  as  ridiculous  as  to  suppose  that  He  is  con- 
stantly interfering  with  the  established  order  of  the  uni- 
verse to  answer  prayer,  or  to  bring  special  deliverances  to 
individuals.  Evidences  of  such  condescension  are  scouted 
with  derision.  It  is  claimed  by  Naturalism  that  they  have 
no  existence  outside  of  the  imagination.  In  danger  and 
distress  men  call  upon  God,  and  are  not  heard.  The  ship 
goes  clown  in  the  night,  the  home  is  reduced  to  ashes  in 
the  fire,  the  harvest  perishes  in  the  storm,  and  the  child 
dies  in  the  parent's  trembling  arms,  though  prayers  impor- 
tunate and  fervent  ascend  to  the  throne  of  Him  who  is 
believed  to  have  power  to  save  ;  yea,  and  minds  sink 
beneath  the  burden  of  mystery  which  such  a  faith  entails, 
and  hearts  are  broken  on  this  rock,  and  yet  God  rises 
not  up  to  vindicate  His  name  by  affording  help  to  the 
sufferer.  How  anyone,  therefore,  with  these  and  similar 
facts  before  him,  can  cling  to  the  doctrines  of  prayer  and 
providence,  Naturalistic  advocates  affect  not  to  understand. 
Ignorance  and  unreason,  they  concede,  may  be  deceived 
by  them,  but  they  cannot  comprehend  how  men  of  intelli- 
gence can  ever  be  persuaded  of  their  truth.  Judging  these 
doctrines  to  be  thus  irrelevant,  irreconcilable  and  irrational, 
they  thrust  them  contemptuously  away,  and  in  effect  write 
"  fool "  on  the  brow  of  every  man  who  gives  them  enter- 
tainment. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  the  wisdom  that  rejects  them  ? 
Naturalism  assumes  an  air  of  intellectual  superiority,  and 
looks  down  with  patronizing  pity  on  the  unfortunate  peo- 
ple who  are  unable  to  rise  to  its  lofty  views  of  God  and 
the  universe.  Perhaps  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  name  some 
of  these  unfortunates,  and  to  take  the  true  measure  of 


106  ISMS    OLD   AND    NEW. 

their  folly.  Permit  me  first  of  all  to  mention  the  venera- 
ble men  who  spake  of  old  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  to  whose  influence  the  world  undoubtedly  owes 
much  of  its  mental  culture  and  moral  refinement.  The 
inspired  prophets,  poets  and  preachers  acknowledge  in 
glowing  terms  what  is  counted  visionary  and  absurd  by 
those  who  are  enraptured  with  the  idea  of  an  impenetrable 
and  imperturbable  "  Clockmaker  Almighty."  They  delight 
to  speak  of  Him  as  "  The  Great,  the  Mighty  God,  who 
hath  His  way  in  the  whirlwind  and  in  the  storm,  and  the 
clouds  are  the  dust  of  His  feet;  who  is  great  in  coun- 
sel and  mighty  in  work,  whose  eyes  are  open  upon  all 
the  ways  of  the  sons  of  men  to  give  everyone  accord- 
ing to  his  ways  and  according  to  the  fruit  of  his  doings; 
and  before  whom  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  are 
reputed  as  nothing,  and  who  doeth  according  to  His 
will  in  the  army  of  heaven,  and  among  the  inhabitants  of 
the  earth;  and  none  can  stay  His  hand,  or  say  unto  Him, 
'  What  doest  Thou  ? '  "  Unto  Him  they  cry,  "  O  Lord  God 
of  our  fathers,  art  not  Thou  God  in  heaven  ?  and  rulest 
not  Thou  over  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  heathen  ?  and  in 
Thine  hand  is  there  not  power  and  might,  so  that  none  is 
able  to  withstand  Thee  ?  Thine,  O  Lord,  is  the  greatness 
and  the  power  and  the  glory  and  the  victory  and  the 
majesty;  for  all  that  is  in  the  heaven  and  the  earth  is 
Thine;  Thine  is  the  kingdom,  O  Lord,  and  Thou  art  exalt- 
ed as  head  above  all.  Both  riches  and  honor  come  of 
Thee,  and  Thou  reignest  over  all;  and  in  Thine  hand  is 
power  and  might,  and  in  Thine  hand  it  is  to  make  great, 
and  to  give  strength  unto  all."  "Even  Thou  art  God 
alone;  Thou  hast  made  heaven,  the  heaven  of  heavens, 
with  all  their  host,  the  earth  and  all  things  that  are  therein, 
the  seas  and  all  that  is  therein,  and  Thou  preservest  them 
all;  Thy  righteousness  is  like  the  great  mountain;  Thy 
judgments  are  a  great  deep;  O  Lord,  Thou  preservest  man 


SCRIPTURE   TESTIMONY.  107 

and  beast;  and  by  Thee  all  things  consist."  They  confess 
that  "the  way  of  man  is  not  in  himself;  it  is  not  in  man 
that  walketh  to  direct  his  steps;  but  his  goings  are  of  the 
Lord;  for  He  giveth  power  to  the  faint,  and  to  them  that 
have  no  might  He  increaseth  strength."  They  rejoice  to 
record  the  Savior's  assuring  words,  "Are  not  two  sparrows 
sold  for  a  farthing?  and  not  one  of  them  is  forgotten 
before  God;  but  even  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all 
numbered.  Fear  not,  therefore,  ye  are  of  more  value  than 
many  sparrows";  and  they  are  always  confident  that 
Jehovah  is  "  their  refuge  and  strength  in  every  time  of 
trouble,"  that  He  will  arise  upon  them  "as  light  in  the 
darkness,"  that  "He  will  uphold  them  with  His  hand,"  that 
"He  will  make  them  to  dwell  safely,"  and  that  "in  their 
way  He  will  cause  life,  and  in  their  pathway  no  death." 
And  thus,  and  in  a  thousand  other  ways,  they  represent 
Him  as  "upholding  all  things  by  the  word  of  His  power," 
as  being  "  a  very  present  help,"  as  sustaining,  guiding, 
directing,  and  as  working  "  all  things  together  for  good." 
To  them  He  is  no  banished,  absentee  Jehovah,  a  rigid 
cast-iron  Destiny,  sitting  listless,  and  watching  the  grind- 
ing of  this  acutely  and  wretchedly  devised  mill  of  life  and 
death, —  to  them  He  is  no  dead  Almighty  Majesty  en- 
tombed in  the  charnel  house  called  the  universe;  no  with- 
ered skeleton  gleaming  ghastly,  like  the  bleached  bones  of 
the  poor  cardinal  in  Milan  Cathedral,  clothed  with  regal 
garments  woven  in  the  loom  of  eternity,  and  gorgeous 
with  sun-spangles  and  stellar-scintillates.  He  is  to  them 
preeminently  the  Living  God,  the  Ever  Living  One,  the 
"King  eternal,  immortal,  invisible,"  who  is  "not  far  from 
every  one  of  us,"  "who  is  able  to  do  exceeding  abundantly 
above  all  that  we  ask  or  think,"  and  who  "worketh  all 
things  after  the  counsel  of  His  own  will." 

That  this  magnificent  faith  of  theirs  is  not  grounded  in 
unreason  as  impartial  a  witness  as  Mr.  Holyoake  involun- 


108  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

tarily  confesses.  In  his  Debate  with  Townly  he  clearly 
shows  the  worthlessness  of  a  Theism  that  excludes  the 
Almighty  from  any  direct  interference  with  the  affairs  of 
His  creatures.  Upon  this  point  he  says,  "  If  you  tell  me 
that  God  exists,  that  He  is  a  power,  or  principle,  or  spirit, 
or  light,  or  life,  or  love,  or  intelligence,  or  what  you  will 
—  if  He  be  not  a  father  to  whom  His  children  may  appeal, 
if  He  be  not  a  providence  whom  we  may  propitiate,  and 
from  whom  we  can  obtain  special  help  in  the  hour  of  dan- 
ger,—  I  say,  practically,  it  does  not  matter  to  us  whether 
He  exists  or  not."  That  is,  in  the  estimation  of  an  Athe- 
ist, the  Naturalist,  whose  Deity  is,  like  Baal,  asleep  or  on  a 
journey  when  His  creatures  implore  His  aid,  is  not  re- 
markably sagacious,  as  he  is  holding  to  a  creed  from 
which  he  has  eliminated  everything  that  renders  it  impor- 
tant, advantageous,  and  profitable.  Thomas  Jefferson  is 
another  such  impartial  witness,  who,  though  skeptically 
inclined,  had  not  discernment  enough  to  perceive  the 
senselessness  and  childishness  of  the  supernatural.  In  his 
JS^otes  on  Virginia,  when  writing  of  the  helpless  condition 
of  those  who  suffered  from  human  cruelty  and  tyranny,  he 
exclaims:  "Doubtless  a  God  of  justice  will  awaken  to  a 
sense  of  their  wrongs,  and  either  by  disseminating  a  sense 
of  humanity  in  the  bosoms  of  their  oppressors,  or  by  His 
exterminating  thunders,  show  that  this  world  is  not  gov- 
erned by  a  blind  fatality."  Is  it  not  singular,  if  such  ex- 
pectations are  as  illusory  and  extravagant  as  Naturalism 
claims,  that  so  keen-sighted  and  long-headed  a  man  as 
Mr.  Jefferson  should  have  been  deceived  by  them  ?  But 
if  it  is  said  that  this  is  accounted  for  by  his  lack  of  scien- 
tific knowledge,  how  shall  we  dispose  of  the  views  an- 
nounced by  Newton,  who  cannot  justly  be  charged  with 
such  ignorance  ?  Upon  this  subject  he  pens  these  immor- 
tal words:  "This  most  beautiful  system  of  the  Sun,  Plan- 
ets and  Comets  could  only  proceed  from  the  counsel  and 


THE    WITNESS  OF   HISTORY.  109 

dominion  of  an  intelligent  and  powerful  Being.  .  .  .  This 
Being  governs  all  things,  not  as  the  soul  of  the  world,  but 
as  Lord  over  all.  The  Supreme  God  is  a  being  eternal, 
infinite,  absolutely  perfect.  We  know  Him  only  by  his 
most  wise  and  excellent  contrivance  of  things  and  final 
causes,  we  adore  Him  for  his  perfection ;  but  we  reverence 
and  adore  Him  on  account  of  his  dominion.  For  we  adore 
Him  as  his  servants;  and  a  god  without  dominion,  provi- 
dence and  final  causes  is  nothing  else  but  Fate  and  Nature." 
Evidently  he  did  not  regard  faith  in  the  personal  over- 
sight and  rulership  of  the  Almighty  as  subversive  either 
of  common  sense  or  of  scientific  accuracy.  Leibnitz,  also, 
expresses  the  conviction  that  "  God  is  a  good  governor  as 
well  as  a  great  architect;"  and  Niebuhr,  in  his  Lectures, 
writes:  "As  the  consideration  of  nature  shows  an  inherent 
intelligence,  which  may  also  be  conceived  as  coherent 
with  nature,  so  does  history,  on  a  hundred  occasions,  show 
an  intelligence  which  is  distinct  from  nature,  which  con- 
ducts and  determines  those  things  which  may  seem  to  be 
accidental,  and  it  is  not  true  that  the  study  of  history 
weakens  the  belief  in  a  Divine  providence.  History  is, 
of  all  kinds  of  knowledge,  the  one  which  tends  most  de- 
cidedly to  that  belief."  (  Vol.  i,  p.  U6.)  And  Morell 
confirms  this  testimony  when  he  says:  "To  the  man  who 
looks  unbelievingly  upon  Divine  providence  the  world's 
history  is  a  problem  that  can  never  be  solved."  (Hist,  of 
Phil.,  vol.  ii,  p.  571.)  These,  then,  are  some  of  the 
names  in  the  great  army  of  simpletons,  numskulls,  and 
fanatics  who,  misled  by  their  own  shallowness  and  obtuse- 
ness,  indulge  in  unphilosophical,  irrational  and  nonsensical 
dreams  of  an  ever-present  Infinite  Spirit,  who  "  upholds 
all  things  by  the  word  of  His  power,"  and  who  works  in 
and  through  all  things  to  the  honor  and  glory  of  His  name. 
But  is  it  suggested  that  these  are  among  the  brightest 
names  in  the  world  of  thought  ?     Is  it  so  ?     What  then  ? 


110  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

What  is  the  real  significance  of  this  fact  ?  Does  it  not  indi- 
cate that,  measured  by  the  capacity  of  the  men,  there  must 
be  less  of  absurdity  and  fatuity  in  the  doctrines  they  avow 
than  their  critics  are  willing  to  acknowledge  ?  And  may 
it  not,  also,  indicate  that  the  much-talked-of  unreason, 
after  all,  is  to  be  found  entirely  on  the  other  side  ? 

Let  us  see. 

The  argument  for  God's  existence  is  equally  an  argu- 
ment for  His  governance.  If  intuition  discerns  His  being, 
it  also  perceives  His  activity.  The  primitive  faiths  of  man- 
kind rather  identified  the  Infinite  Spirit  with  the  universe 
than  separated  Him  from  its  operations.  They  saw  Him 
in  the  phenomena  of  nature  as  well  as  in  the  movements 
of  history.  He  was  over  everything  and  in  everything. 
Pantheism  far  more  than  Naturalism  expresses  the  idea 
which  filled  the  mind  of  the  earliest  races,  and  which  im- 
parted to  the  most  ancient  religious  systems  their  distinct- 
ive character.  Doubtless  among  ignorant  tribes  the  in- 
tuitive recognition  of  Providence  was  crude,  and  led  to 
many  superstitious  and  foolish  thoughts  and  observances. 
And  not  a  few  people  of  narrow  and  limited  culture  err  in 
the  same  direction  still.     As  Shakspeare  expresses  it: 

"No  natural  exhalation  in  the  sky, 
No  scope  of  nature,  no  distemper'd  clay, 
No  common  wind,  no  customed  event, 
But  they  will  pluck  away  his  natural  cause 
And  call  them  meteors,  prodigies,  and  signs, 
Abortives,  presages,  and  tongues  of  heaven." 

But  the  strength  of  these  superstitious  feelings  only  goes 
to  show  how  vigorous  and  clear  the  intuition  is.  We  our- 
selves must  be  conscious  of  the  fact  that  just  in  propor- 
tion as  we  realize  distinctly  the  existence  of  the  Almighty, 
we  seek  to  draw  nearer  to  Him,  to  commune  with  Him, 
and  to  commit  to  Him  our  ways.  Has  not  this  been  your 
experience?     If   you    have    ever  taken  pains  to  analyze 


THE    LAW    AND    LAWGIVER.  Ill 

your  idea  of  God,  as  the  reality  has  emerged  from  the 
mists  of  vagueness  you  have  instinctively  bowed  the  knee 
before  Him,  and  lifted  up  your  heart  in  homage.  It 
would  seem,  then,  that  the  recognition  of  His  sovereignty 
and  supervision  springs  from  something  interwoven  in  the 
soul's  texture,  native  to  it  and  originating  with  it,  and  that, 
therefore,  it  is  as  worthy  of  confidence  as  is  the  testimony 
of  that  untaught  voice  within  us  which  proclaims  the  cer- 
tainty of  His  being. 

But  if  we  shift  the  ground  of  belief  from  what  we  feel 
within  to  what  we  behold  without  the  result  is  the  same. 
Discerning  thought  in  the  constitution  of  nature,  we  are 
led  by  a  mental  necessity  to  impute  it  to  a  Cause,  and  so 
to  reach  the  conclusion  that  Infinite  Intelligence  is  the 
only  adequate  explanation  of  creation.  But  is  not 
thought  as  manifest  in  the  operations  of  nature  as  in  its 
construction?  We  cannot  have  failed  to  observe  their 
regularity,  their  order,  and  their  apparent  submission  to 
the  supremacy  of  law.  Not  perhaps  the  unvarying  action 
of  a  steam  engine,  or  the  undi versified  movement  of  a 
watch;  for  nature  is  not  without  deviation  from  the 
strict  line  of  its  march,  and  its  regularity  is  not  pre- 
cisely an  endless,  monotonous  repetition.  While  all  or- 
ganizations correspond  to  certain  types,  no  two  of  them 
are  exactly  alike;  while  each  succeeding  day  and  sea- 
son resemble  the  preceding,  they  are  not  in  every  re- 
spect the  same;  and  though  the  earth  from  the  begin- 
ning must  have  been  subject  to  the  physical  laws  which 
reign  at  present  throughout  the  realm  of  matter,  yet 
under  them  what  transformations  have  taken  place  in  the 
past,  and  probably  what  equally  radical  changes  will  take 
place  in  the  future.  We  have  in  the  administration  of 
the  universe  diversity  in  unity,  sameness  and  variation, 
retrogression  and  progress;  in  a  word,  everything  to  as- 
sure us  that,  while  it  is  governed  by  law,  it  is  law  in  the 


112  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

hands  of  a  free  intelligent  Being,  who  knows  how  to 
bring  about  modifications  of  old  processes  and  even 
new  effects  without  transgressing  its  limits  or  disregard- 
ing its  authority. 

The  Christian  poet  asks 

"  How  should  matter  execute  a  law, 
Dull  as  it  is,  and  satisfy  a  charge 
So  vast  in  its  demands,  unless  impelled 
To  ceaseless  action  by  some  ceaseless  Power, 
And  under  pressure  of  some  conscious  cause?" 

And  Reid  has  well  answered:  "The  laws  of  nature  are  the 
rules  according  to  which  the  effects  are  produced,  but 
there  must  be  a  cause  which  operates  according  to  these 
rules.  The  rules  of  navigation  never  navigated  a  ship; 
the  rules  of  architecture  never  built  a  house."  (Essays, 
in,  JfJf.)  Sir  John  Herschel,  in  his  address  to  the  British 
association  (1845),  drew  a  similar  distinction.  He  re- 
minded his  hearers  that  "a  law  may  be  a  rule  of  action, 
but  it  is  not  an  action;"  .  .  .  and  that  "we  can  never 
substitute  the  rule  for  the  act."  And  Mr.  Wallace,  re- 
garded as  a  Darwinist  before  Darwin,  from  the  consid- 
eration of  many  peculiar  phenomena  arrives  at  the  same 
view:  "Natural  selection  is  only  a  means  by  which  the 
Creator  worked."  .  .  <>  "A  superior  intelligence  has 
guided  the  development  of  man  in  a  definite  direction, 
and  for  a  special  purpose,  just  as  man  guides  the  develop- 
ment of  many  animal  and  vegetable  forms;"  .  .  .  and  "it, 
therefore,  implies  that  the  great  laws  which  govern  the 
material  universe  were  insufficient  for  his  production." 
(  Wallace,  p.  360.)  I  have  no  doubt  if  common  sense 
would  have  sanctioned  a  different  conclusion  our  scientist 
would  not  have  been  slow  to  embrace  it;  and  the  fact 
that  he  and  others  have  been  obliged  to  admit  the  impo- 
tence of  mere  law,  strengthens  my  position  that  its  reign, 
especially  when  taken  in  connection  with  the  variety  of 


MAN   AND    NATURE.  113 

operations  that  occur  under  it,  of  which  man's  develop- 
ment is  a  fair  illustration,  makes  unanswerably  for  belief 
in  God's  imperial  executive  functions;  or,  in  other  words, 
for  the  reality  and  completeness  of  His  all-wise  providence. 
Another  line  of  thought,  suggested  by  a  remark  of  Mr. 
Wallace,  can  hardly  fail  to  carry  conviction  to  the  mind 
of  the  most  dubious.  He  alludes  to  the  fact  that  man  has 
guided  the  development  of  many  animal  and  vegetable 
forms.  This  is  indeed  true,  but  probably  very  few  pause 
to  consider  its  significance.  Horace  Bushnel  has  said: 
"Not  all  the  winds,  and  storms,  and  earthquakes,  and 
seas,  and  seasons  of  the  world  have  done  so  much  as  man 
to  revolutionize  the  earth."  He  discriminates  between 
humanity  and  nature.  The  latter  he  looks  upon  as  having 
no  power  of  improvement  within  itself,  but  as  subject  to 
the  action  of  soul,  "thoughtful  soul,"  and  as  receiving 
from  its  touch  new  aspects  and  new  features.  This  is  the 
idea  of  the  Psalmist:  "Thou  hast  made  him  (man)  to 
have  dominion  over  the  works  of  Thy  hands.  Thou  hast 
put  all  things  under  his  feet."  That  is,  the  creature  is  the 
viceroy  of  the  Creator  in  the  terrestrial  world,  and  in 
miniature,  and  in  some  small  degree  figures  to  the  under- 
standing how  it  is  possible  for  his  Sovereign  to  interfere 
in  the  course  of  things  for  special  ends,  such  as  the  answer 
to  prayer,  without  disregarding  their  constitution  or  dis- 
arranging their  laws.  We  know  that  man  has  improved 
vegetation,  has  added  freshness  and  beauty  to  the  grass 
on  the  lawn,  has  enriched  the  fruits  on  the  boughs  of  the 
orchard,  and  multiplied  the  colors  and  increased  the  fra- 
grance of  plants.  He  has  bettered  soils,  moderated  the 
severity  of  the  seasons,  turned  rivers,  joined  seas,  and 
rendered  tributary  to  his  service  those  strange  forces  seen 
only  when  in  operation,  and  only  in  useful  and  available 
operation  through  the  influence  of  intelligence.  But  in 
all  of  these  manifold  endeavors  and  conquests  has  any  law 
8 


114  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

been  trifled  with?  Has  the  uniformity  of  nature  been 
imperiled,  or  its  integrity  been  jeopardized  ?  When  man 
has  flashed  the  electric  spark,  charged  with  his  thought, 
through  the  heart  of  mountains  like  St.  Gothard,  and 
under  the  surging  billows  of  oceans  like  the  Atlantic; 
when  he  has  drawn  the  lightning's  shaft  from  out  the 
stormy  cloud,  and  dispersed  its  anger  through  the  air,  or 
buried  its  fury  in  the  earth;  when  he  has  confronted  the 
devastating  lava  flowing  down  the  fissured  sides  of  ancient 
volcanoes  wreathed  in  sulphurous  smoke,  diverting  its  fiery 
tide  into  channels  which  his  skill  has  dug,  as  was  done  by 
the  Viceroy  in  1794  to  save  Portici  from  Vesuvius;  when 
he  has  grappled  with  the  might  of  the  pestilence,  wrung 
from  the  bowels  of  the  earth  her  hoarded  treasures,  or 
extracted  from  the  plant  the  soothing  anodyne,  has  he 
outraged  nature,  has  he  disregarded  her  mandates  or 
deranged  her  courses?  No;  she  is  just  as  fair,  as  or- 
derly, as  regular  as  ever.  Effects  have  been  produced 
which,  left  to  herself,  never  would  have  been  produced, 
and  which  are  to  be  traced  to  the  influence  of  intelli- 
gence, which  is  able  to  subject  nature,  without  subverting 
her,  to  its  ends  and  aims. 

And  can  man  do  so  much  and  God  do  nothing?  Is 
the  mind  of  Deity  less  potent  than  the  mind  of  humanity  ? 
If  the  creature  can  find  a  way  to  communicate  with  his 
fellows  across  wastes  of  water  and  deserts  of  sand;  if  he 
by  some  simple  anaesthetic  can  alleviate  pain;  if  he  by  a 
thousand  ways  can  avert  calamities,  or  bring  deliverance 
to  those  who  are  in  danger,  cannot  the  Creator,  by  means 
undiscoverable  to  us,  by  agencies  and  instrumentalities 
which  lie  beyond  the  range  of  our  vision  and  the  tests  of 
our  chemistry,  hear  the  helpless  when  he  cries,  and  open 
up  unexpected  avenues  of  escape  ?  If,  in  a  word,  man  is 
himself  providence  to  the  lower  world,  what  is  to  hinder 
God  from  being  providence  to  the  higher  ?     Surely  nature 


NATURE   AND   REVELATION.  115 

must  be  as  pliable  to  His  touch  and  as  plastic  to  His 
thought  as  it  is  to  the  being  made  in  His  image!  Is  He 
Himself  never  to  exercise  that  power  which  He  has  in- 
trusted to  His  child  ?  And  if  that  child,  in  its  folly,  can 
sway  it  without  occasioning  anarchy  in  the  universe,  can- 
not the  Father,  in  His  wisdom,  do  the  same,  and  even 
more  wonderfully  and  abundantly,  without  incurring  the 
suspicion  of  inconsistency,  fickleness,  or  lawlessless  ?  This 
we  infer  from  man's  relation  to  nature,  and  it  is  as  though 
God  had  introduced  it  before  our  eyes,  that  we  might 
thereby  be  assured  that  He  Himself  is  thus  allied  to  us, 
and  that,  in  as  real  a  sense,  though  perhaps  more  mys- 
teriously, He  guides  and  controls  all  things  according  to 
the  counsel  of  His  own  will.  And  as  long  as  the  simili- 
tude is  perpetuated  we  shall  believe  that  the  Invisible  One 
can  hear  our  prayer,  can  come  near  to  us  in  trial,  can 
succor  us  in  temptation,  can  comfort  us  in  sorrow, —  can 
and  will;  yea,  will  and  does. 

The  reasonableness  and  value  of  the  system  we  are 
considering  may  also  be  tested  in  another  manner.  It 
claims  that  nature  is  all-sufficient  for  moral,  reformatory, 
and  religious  inspiration  and  guidance,  and  that  God  will 
in  no  case  interpose  to  supplement  this  first  volume  with 
a  second.  But  is  the  first  really  sufficient?  When  it  has 
been  relied  on  exclusively  has  it  brought  forth  the  fruits 
of  righteousness?  Has  it  promoted  human  brotherhood, 
renovated  society,  and  multiplied  altars  of  devotion?  If 
it  has  not, —  if  in  these  particulars  it  has  failed, —  then 
the  assumption  of  moral  potency  put  forth  in  its  behalf 
is  baseless,  and  the  inference  that  God  will  not  shed  addi- 
tional light  on  the  path  of  His  creatures  is  purely  gratu- 
itous. We  have  not  to  seek  far  or  long  to  discover  that 
on  these  points  Naturalism  romances,  and  that  this  spirit- 
ual power  is  more  imaginary  than  real.  Undoubtedly  the 
works  of  the  Almighty  influence  wonderfully  the  human 


116  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

mind.  They  exalt,  overawe,  delight  and  expand  the  soul; 
they  sometimes  hush  to  silence,  or  awaken  praise,  create 
ennobling  images  or  kindle  poetic  fires;  but  it  is  exceed- 
ingly questionable  whether  they  ever  do  more  than  render 
active  what  is  already  latent  in  the  man.  But  be  that  as 
it  may,  though  nature  may  quicken  the  muse  of  the  poet 
and  the  genius  of  the  artist,  and  although  it  may  at  times 
stimulate  devotion,  it  is  practically  powerless  to  reclaim 
the  wanderer  from  right,  to  purify  the  heart  of  the 
vicious,  or  to  restore  hope  to  the  despairing.  The  sun 
that  rolls  resplendently  in  space,  whose  brightness  is  the 
shadow  of  its  Creator's  glory,  subtle  and  penetrating 
though  its  light  may  be,  invading  chambers  of  densest 
ignorance  and  inundating  dens  of  vice,  never  yet  has 
flooded  the  benighted  intellect  with  healing  radiance  or 
quickened  into  moral  fruitfulness  the  barren  conscience. 
The  humblest  roadside  preacher  in  his  poverty  has  made 
more  converts  to  virtue's  cause  than  has  the  king  of  day 
in  all  the  affluence  of  his  insufferable  splendor.  Ocean 
in  its  vastness, —  a  world  of  water  rising  in  mists  and 
ascending  in  waves  to  salute  a  world  of  fire, —  awakens 
not  with  the  thunder  of  its  rolling  billows  the  penitence 
of  the  prodigal;  and  neither  does  its  majestic  and  appall- 
ing power  rescue  the  dissolute  and  depraved.  The  sweet, 
saintly  life  of  a  Christian  mother  has  done  more  to  save 
the  sea-boy  from  eternal  ruin  than  all  the  mighty,  head- 
strong waters  that  swirl  in  tempests  or  sleep  in  calms. 
They  who  dwell  among  the  mountains,  who  inhabit  sol- 
emn solitudes,  who  gaze  on  the  untrodden  snows  of  alti- 
tudes beyond  their  reach,  and  who  are  familiar  with  the 
antheming  winds  as  they  traverse  the  pine  forests  whose 
roots  cling  to  inhospitable  rocks,  are  no  better,  no  purer, 
than  they  who  tread  the  muddy  streets  and  gaze  continu- 
ally on  the  blank,  monotonous  houses  of  great  cities. 
The   poorest    mission  in  the    most    squalid    quarter  of  a 


MORAL   IMPOTENCE   OF   NATURE.  117 

dense  metropolis  will  do  more  real  work  in  a  year  for 
virtue  and  piety  than  the  beauty  of  Chamounix  or  the 
savage  grandeur  of  the  Engadine  will  accomplish  in  an 
age.  Morally,  the  Sunday-school  children  of  a  country 
are  worth  more  than  all  the  stars  that  shine  in  heaven 
or  all  the  flowers  that  gleam  on  earth,  and  in  things  per- 
taining to  spiritual  regeneration  the  Judsons  and  Cloughs 
are  of  more  value  than  the  Himalayas;  and  every  Chris- 
tian laborer  consecrating  the  meagerest  talents  to  the 
Master's  cause  is  of  more  importance  than  wooded  dell, 
savage  glen,  majestic  cataracts  and  cloud-crowned  moun- 
tains. 

It  will  not  be  denied  that  men  of  genius,  who  have 
been  most  susceptible  to  nature's  influences,  have  been 
among  the  most  godless.  Who  is  there  among  the  poets 
that  has  surpassed  Goethe  in  depth  of  sensibility,  or  who 
could  more  vividly  portray  every  phase  of  beauty  and  sub- 
limity, and  yet  his  life  was  far  from  saintly  ?  He  trifled 
with  female  affections  through  many  foul  and  filthy  years; 
and  philosopher  as  well  as  poet  though  he  was,  he  restrained 
not  the  hot  winds  of  passion  from  ravaging  his  soul  like  a 
Sirocco's  blast.  Your  heroic  Byron,  whose  majestic  verse 
reveals  a  heart  as  impressionable  to  the  loveliness  of  stream 
and  bird  and  flower  as  Geneva's  placid  lake,  which  he  de- 
scribes so  tenderly,  is  to  the  luster  of  the  stars,  was  a  way- 
ward spirit,  and  continually  gravitated  downward  toward 
the  frail  and  sin-stained.  Robert  Burns,  too,  who  could 
discern  the  grace  and  purity  of  the  mountain  daisy,  and 
who  in  his  poems  could  enshrine  the  stern  grandeur  of  his 
Scotia's  scenery,  failed  not  to  put  in  practice  one  part  at 
least  of  his  ribald  song,  "to  riot  all  the  night."  Paint- 
ers, who  are  supposed  to  drink  in  inspiration  from  the 
Creator's  works,  and  musicians,  who  feel  their  tender  har- 
monies, have  afforded  in  their  dissolute  conduct  sad  proof 
that  there   is  an   infinite   gulf    between  aesthetical   senti- 


118  isms  old  and  new. 

ments  and  ethical  principles.  And  even  where  nature  has 
been  idealized  into  a  deity,  or  transformed  into  an  altar, 
and  where  piety  has  sought  to  do  it  honor,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  Chaldeans  and  the  Greeks,  the  worship  has  not 
been  free  from  sensuality,  or  the  worshipers  from  licen- 
tiousness. A  fatality  seems  to  attend  every  naturalistic 
system  of  religion.  Whatever  may  be  the  explanation, 
whether  it  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  its  utter  inability  to 
reach  the  conscience,  or  by  some  other  and  here  nameless 
impotency,  the  fact  still  remains  that  it  ever  tends  toward 
looseness  in  morals  and  weakness  in  virtue.  Witness  the 
truth  of  this  statement  in  the  lives  of  those  who,  in  Eu- 
rope and  America,  have  fallen  under  the  influence  of  such 
writers  as  D'Holbach,  and  who,  thrusting  from  them  the 
teachings  of  Christianity,  have  come  to  regard  man  as  the 
universal  priest,  and  the  world  as  a  veil  hiding  from  mor- 
tal eyes  an  Infinite  Unknown.  While  some  among  them 
are  undoubtedly  men  of  purity  and  rectitude,  the  rank 
and  file  have  little  share  in  these  high  qualities.  They  are 
too  frequently  careless  of  moral  obligation,  and  too  indif- 
ferent to  right  for  them  to  be  classed  with  the  pure  and 
noble.  While  they  talk  much  of  nature,  they  are  rarely 
found  in  communion  with  her;  while  they  extol  her,  they 
do  not  desire  her  company.  Not  in  cathedral  forests  will 
you  find  them,  nor  treading  the  solitudes  of  the  temple- 
hills,  pouring  out  their  souls  in  the  presence  of  the  Un- 
seen, and  seeking  with  trembling  faith  the  Infinite  One. 
No;  their  thoughts  are  not  concerned  with  such  sublime 
pursuits  and  such  exalted  themes.  Generally  they  are 
found  with  agitators  who  would  overthrow  society,  who 
would  trample  law  and  order  under  foot,  and  who  would 
welcome  bloody  revolution  in  the  interest  of  crazy 
schemes  of  progress.  Not  from  the  pure  air  or  from  the 
sublimities  of  creation  do  they  expect  to  derive  strength 
for  manly  duty  and  comfort  for  weary  hearts,  but  rather 


nature's  worshipers.  119 

from  the  wine-glass  and  the  beer-barrel.  They  lounge  in 
saloons,  guzzle  in  concert-gardens,  and  beclouding  their 
mental  and  moral  faculties  with  the  fumes  of  untold  quan- 
tities of  liquor,  go  forth  to  drunken  slumber,  or  to  moody 
discontent,  and  are  ready  for  the  heroic  task,  which  they 
not  infrequently  perform,  of  shooting  into  crowds  of  help- 
less, unarmed  people,  or  of  brutally  murdering  defenseless 
women. 

It  is  a  significant  fact,  not  unworthy  of  note  in  this 
connection,  that  the  wrathful  and  stormful  aspects  of 
nature,  which  sometimes  overwhelm  the  human  heart  with 
terror,  rarely,  if  ever,  produce  permanent  spiritual  results. 
Occasionally  thay  may  impel  toward  a  better  and  more 
religious  life,  but  they  invariably  stop  short  of  the  sacred 
goal.  They  need  to  be  supplemented  by  something  else, 
something  that  will  deepen  the  impression  received,  and 
carry  it  forward  to  an  abiding  moral  transformation.  Thus 
it  was  the  gospel  of  Christ,  not  the  tempest  that  alarmed 
Martin  Luther  in  the  forest,  that  effected  the  conversion 
of  the  monk,  and  prepared  him  to  be  a  reformer.  The 
earthquakes  in  New  England,  which  startled  so  many 
people  into  a  desire  for  union  with  the  church,  as  was 
abundantly  proven,  failed  to  implant  in  the  soul  the  prin- 
ciples of  godliness  and  righteousness.  An  intelligent 
Scotchman  related  to  me  on  one  occasion  what  he  had 
experienced  when  alone  near  the  summit  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  He  said  that  he  was  so  oppressed  with  the 
grandeur  of  the  scene  that  he  wept,  and  found  himself 
doing  what  for  years  before  he  had  neglected  —  praying. 
Here  was  a  hopeful  case  surely.  After  all,  then,  we  have 
an  instance  of  conversion  through  the  ministry  of  nature. 
Not  so  fast.  This  man  when  narrating  the  circumstance 
to  me  treated  it  as  a  pleasantry,  as  an  incident  to  be 
merry  over,  and  interblended  coarse  expressions  and  oaths 
in  his  speech.     Evidently  the  transient  emotion  had  pro- 


120  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

ducecl  no  lasting  improvement.  I  remember  once  the 
crew  and  passengers  of  a  ship,  during  an  Atlantic  hurri- 
cane which  threatened  destruction,  becoming  violently 
penitent  and  devout,  and  when  the  danger  abated  rapidly 
returning  to  their  folly  and  their  irreligion.  I  have  seen 
a  city  stricken  with  Asiatic  cholera  draped  in  sadness, 
mourning  over  its  wickedness,  supplicating  God  with  self- 
reproaches  and  with  vows  of  self-amendment,  and  when 
the  frost  announced  the  return  of  a  healthier  season  I 
have  seen  the  people  of  that  city  as  proud,  oppressive  and 
corrupt  as  they  were  before.  A  company  of  sailors  related 
to  my  church  the  dealings  of  God  with  them  which  led 
them  to  desire  baptism.  Their  ship  had  been  caught  in 
the  whirl  and  might  of  a  typhoon  in  the  China  Sea. 
They  gave  themselves  up  for  lost.  Grim  darkness  covered 
them,  the  wind  howled  round  them,  the  seas  swept  over 
them,  and  prospect  of  deliverance  there  was  none.  "They 
were  at  their  wits'  end,"  and  then  called  they  upon  God, 
and  as  they  lifted  their  despairing  eyes  they  saw  through 
a  sudden  rent  in  the  pall  of  death  above  them  a  bright 
star  shining.  They  hailed  it  as  a  happy  omen.  It  com- 
forted them  in  their  distress,  inspired  them  with  courage, 
and  helped  them  by  its  soothing  influence  to  weather  the 
terrific  storm.  If  any  set  of  men  could  have  been  made 
better  by  nature,  surely  these  sailors  ought  to  have  been 
transformed  into  saints.  But  they  were  not;  and  never 
did  they  rise  to  the  higher  life  until  some  young  Christians 
boarded  their  vessel  at  the  wharf  and  guided  them  to 
Jesus.  In  their  case,  as  in  many  others,  the  humblest 
colporteur  proved  a  mightier  and  more  effective  moral 
force  than  the  sublimest  typhoon.  As  I  have  reflected  on 
such  instances,  the  conviction  has  grown  that  the  extir- 
pation of  sin  and  the  renewal  of  the  heart  in  goodness 
require  something  more  than  glare  of  lightning,  stroke  of 
thunder,  or  fury  of  devastating  tempest. 


THE   NEW   THEOLOGY.  121 

Nay  more,  if  we  estimate  this  Ism  by  the  ethical  and 
religious  principles  which  it  necessitates,  and  which  in  its 
name  are  presented   as  the  theological   doctrines   of  the 
material  universe,  we  shall  be  persuaded  that  morally  it  is 
worthless.     The    first    article    of   its    creed    declares   that 
there   is   no   supreme   God,  at    best    only  a  supreme    un- 
knowable Unknown,  with  whom  it  is  impossible  for  us  to 
hold  communion,  and  who  of  course  can  take  no  possible 
interest  in  His  creatures.     Its  second  resolves  the  doctrine 
of  providence  into  fate,  and  attributes  the  mysterious  in- 
fluences that   dispose  us  toward  the  right,  or  incline  us 
toward  the  wrong,  to  physical  sources.     They  are  identi- 
fied with   atmospheric    changes,   the    moon's   phases,   the 
stars'  motions,  the  earth's  perihelion,  the   sun's  periodic 
convulsions,  with  variations  of  the  temperature,  the  scen- 
ery that   surrounds   us,  the   food  we   eat,  and  the  fluids 
we  drink.     These  teachings  are  suggested  as  worthy  sub- 
stitutes for  the  doctrines  of  God  and  His  government  — 
how  elevating  !     As  a  third  kind  of  article,  we  are  assured 
that  the  Bible  idea  of  moral  liberty  is  a  myth,  and  that  we 
should  believe  in  its  stead  that  of  mechanical  or  chemical 
necessity,  and  regard  thought,  opinion,  emotion,  desire, 
volition,  as  the  result  of   changes   in   the   tissues  of  the 
brain,  or  as  determined  solely  by  the  weight  and  size  of 
that    remarkable    organ.     How  reasonable  !     Very  !     On 
these  exalted  notions,  however,  Shakspeare,  in  his  King 
Lear,  has  ventured  to  express  the  opinion  —  an  opinion  so 
dark  and  depreciatory  that  it  must  be  attributed  to  the 
benighted  condition  of  the  unhappy  age  in  which  he  lived: 
"  This  is  the  excellent  foppery  of  the  world,  that  when  we 
are  sick  in  fortune  (often  the  surfeit  of  our  own  behav- 
iour) we  make  guilty  of  our  disasters  the  sun,  moon,  and 
stars:  as  if  we  were  villains  on  necessity;  fools  by  heav- 
enly   compulsion;    knaves,    thieves,    and    treacherous    by 
spherical  predominance;  drunkards,  liars,  and  adulterers, 


122  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

by  inforced  obedience  of  planetary  influence;  and  all  that 
we  are  evil,  by  a  divine  thrusting  on."  Of  course  if  the 
poet  had  only  lived  in  these  enlightened  days  he  would 
have  seen  differently,  and  would  have  extolled  what  he 
has  ridiculed.  Unhappy  poet !  blind  to  the  most  lumi- 
nous of  doctrines  !  !  Alas  for  dim-sighted  genius ! ! ! 
Then,  we  are  informed,  fourthly,  that  man  sprang  from 
one-celled  amoeba?  ancestors  of  the  Laurentian  period; 
that  after  developing  into  skullless  vertebrates,  such  as 
the  amphioxus,  and  proceeding  upward  through  amphibian 
forms,  he  appeared  among  the  mammals,  and  having  for  a 
season  borne  the  simian  image,  emerged  into  the  shape 
which  now  he  wears.  How  ennobling  !  Fifthly,  it  is  af- 
firmed that  sin  is  only  disease,  or  better,  a  circuitous  route 
to  perfection;  that  moral  qualities  do  not  inhere  in  hu- 
man conduct;  and  that  it  is  wrong  to  suppose  that  there 
is  anything  sacred  in  marriage,  or  anything  heinous  in 
infanticide.  How  liberal !  Then,  by  way  of  climax  to 
this  singular  Confession  of  Faith,  we  are  encouraged  to 
believe  that  the  universe  is  infinitely  miserable,  but  that 
man  inevitably  shall  attain  to  happiness  in  the  rottenness 
and  oblivion  of  the  grave.  How  cheerful !  Yea,  how  de- 
lightful, charming,  and  edifying  !  Perfectly  splendid ! 
These  are  the  principal  dogmas  and  precepts  of  the  New 
Theology.  What  an  advance  on  the  antiquated  doctrines 
of  Paul,  and  the  narrow  statutes  of  Moses.  How  exalted! 
Immeasurably  beyond  the  Tridentine  Decrees,  or  those 
other  wretched  decrees  of  Dort,  or  the  melancholy  articles 
of  the  Westminster  divines  !  Certainly,  if  they  are  not 
tran  scendently  above  every  other  confession,  descendently 
they  surpass  them  all. 

But  let  us  see  whitherward  these  remarkable  teach- 
ings tend.  I  must  confess,  if  the  only  Almight3r  is  blind 
force,  if  man  is  a  creature  of  circumstances,  if  the  only 
law  to   be  obeyed  is  the  irresistible,  if  the  rule  of  mar- 


MORAL   OUTCOME   OF   NATURALISM.  123 

riage  is  affinity,  and  if  the  end  of  life  is  personal  gratifi- 
cation, that  I  cannot  see  from  whence  we  are  to  derive 
our  inspiration  to  virtue  and  piety.  Piety,  purity  —  they 
wither  under  the  blighting  influence  of  such  ideas.  They 
crucify  lofty  feelings  and  noble  aspirations,  and  can  hardly 
fail  to  promote  the  growth  of  vice  and  crime.  If  man 
is  but  an  advance  on  the  brute  he  will  probably  be  in- 
clined to  rend  and  tear  as  the  brute;  and  if  marriage  is 
destitute  of  the  sacred  element  it  will  gradually  pass  into 
what  Herbert  Spencer  calls  "  Promiscuity,"  and  Sir  John 
Lubbock  defines  as  "communal"  wedlock;  and  if  mater- 
nity is  a  curse  which  no  divine  law  imposes,  infanticide 
will  inevitably  become  as  common  in  America  as  in  Tas- 
mania; and  if  wrong-doing  is  but  an  unavoidable  accident, 
idlers,  drunkards,  and  the  whole  canaille  of  devildom  will 
feel  that  no  other  course  is  open  to  them  but  to  follow 
their  disordered  appetites  and  turbulent  passions.  Surely 
this  frightful  and  alarming  tendency  of  principles  pro- 
fessedly derived  from  nature  by  philosophical  Naturalism 
proves  conclusively  that  as  a  theology  it  is  utterly  inade- 
quate to  conserve  the  moral  and  religious  welfare  of  society. 
And  in  view  of  this  utter  break-down  of  its  most  pre- 
tentious and  serious  claims,  are  we  not  warranted  in  re- 
jecting the  entire  system?  We  feel  assured  that  we  are. 
How  much  more  rational  the  belief  that,  beholding  our 
helplessness,  the  loving  Father  should  confer  on  us  an 
adequate  Revelation,  that  the  Unseen  should  refuse  to 
remain  the  Unknown,  and  the  Inconceivable  continue  the 
Inaudible.  "  He  who  made  the  eye,  shall  He  not  see  ? 
He  who  made  the  ear,  shall  He  not  hear  ?"  And  He  who 
made  the  tongue,  shall  He  not  speak  ?  If  he  has  found 
lips  in  the  mute  rocky  ranges,  breath  in  the  whispering 
breezes,  and  a  vocabulary  in  suns,  stars,  seas,  solitary 
deserts,  and  crowded  cities  wherewith  to  proclaim  His 
eternal  power  and  Godhead,  seeing  our  dire  spiritual  ne- 


124  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

cessities,  it  is  reasonable  to  conclude  that  to  meet  them 
He  will  not  despise  our  poor,  stammering  language,  nor 
disdain  to  use  it  as  the  vehicle  of  His  mighty  thought. 
It  is  incredible  that  the  speech-maker  should  be  Himself 
the  Speechless,  or  that  the  author  of  multiplied  vocables 
should  be  unable  to  articulate  His  holy  will.  Wise  men 
of  all  ages,  such  as  Socrates,  have  expressed  the  convic- 
tion that  a  direct  Revelation  is  among  the  most  probable 
and  possible,  as  it  is  among  the  most  indispensable,  of 
heaven's  gifts.  If  it  is  said  that  this  reasoning  will  carry 
us  to  the  unorthodox  conclusion  that  His  communications 
cannot  be  restricted  to  the  contents  of  one  volume,  I  can 
only  answer,  so  be  it.  I  shall  even  then  be  only  repeating 
the  sentiment  ascribed  to  Zuinglius  by  the  author  of 
Heathen  Religions,  that  "the  Holy  Ghost  was  not  en- 
tirely excluded  from  the  more  worthy  portion  of  the 
heathen  world."  But  while  I  am  prepared  to  accept  the 
consequences  of  my  argument,  and  to  reverence  the  signs 
of  God  in  any  sacred  book,  there  are  adequate  reasons  for 
maintaining  that  the  volume  known  among  us  as  the 
Bible  contains  the  completest,  the  most  fully  inspired, 
and  the  best  authenticated  revelation  ever  given  to  the 
race.  All  others  are  as  stars  in  comparison  with  the 
sun,  as  the  cold  luster  of  the  pole  in  comparison  with  the 
brilliancy  of  the  tropics,  as  the  opaque  whiteness  of  the 
pearl  in  comparison  with  the  transparent  beauty  of  the 
diamond.  Rousseau  acknowledges  its  moral  power; 
Goethe  confesses  its  unparalleled  spiritual  excellence; 
Theodore  Parker  magnifies  it  as  the  purest  fertilizing 
stream  that  ever  flowed  through  our  desert  world;  Hux- 
ley esteems  it  indispensable  to  sound  ethical  education, 
and  Amberley  extols  it  beyond  any  other  work  existing 
among  men.  From  these  considerations  it  is  reasonable 
to  conclude  not  only  that  Naturalism  is  untenable,  but 
that    He   who  "  upholds   all    things  by   the   word   of   His 


PLOTINUS.  125 

power,"  also  has  conferred  on  us  a  revelation  to  lighten 
our  darkness,  and  that  in  its  supreme  and  perfected  form 
it  is  contained  in  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

Their  light  is  needed  in  navigating  the  vague  uncer- 
tainty called  life;  apart  from  their  luster  the  universe 
is  a  dubious  phantasmagoria,  and  aside  from  their  spirit- 
ual vivifying  warmth  the  world  is  as  those  hyperborean 
regions  where  winter  is  added  to  winter,  where  ice  is  piled 
on  ice,  where  the  sea  is  imprisoned  in  eternal  repose,  and 
where  the  congealed  mass  is  swept  by  shivering  winds. 
Without  the  Bible  the  soul  remains  doubt-riven,  and  "at 
best  but  a  troubled  guest  upon  an  earth  of  gloom."  The 
study  of  nature  imparts  not  moral  strength,  and  the  con- 
quest of  nature  brings  neither  peace  nor  joy.  Could  we 
penetrate  the  innermost  laboratory,  hidden  in  the  abysmal 
depths  of  the  unseen,  and  witness  chemical  combinations 
resulting  in  suns,  stars  and  constellations,  and  could  we  dis- 
engage ourselves  from  old  ideas  and  satisfy  ourselves  that 
toiling  time,  laborious  law  and  moiling  matter  are  suf- 
ficient to  account  for  the  origin  and  order  of  all  things 
that  make  up  this  marvelous  universe,  we  would  turn 
from  the  great  discovery  saddened  and  dispirited,  like 
children  who,  seeking  a  father,  have  stumbled  on  his 
grave,  and  like  children  conscious  of  their  orphan  state 
we  would  cry  out  in  sharp  agony  of  despair,  God  !  God  ! 
God  !  So  unsubmergeable  are  our  religious  instincts,  and 
so  unquenchable  our  religious  aspirations,  that  could 
we  prove  the  unprovable  assumptions  of  Naturalism  we 
would  revolt  from  the  unwelcome  demonstration,  and  in 
our  wretchedness  bewail  the  loss  of  confidence  in  that 
Book  whose  sublime  revelations  have  filled  our  thoughts 
with  Divine  images  and  our  lives  with  the  consciousness 
of  saintly  fellowships. 

It  is  related  of  the  great  Plotinus  that  he  soug-ht  in 
many  directions  for  truth;    that  he  communed  with  sci- 


126  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

ences  and  philosophies,  climbed  the  heights  of  speculation 
and  fathomed  the  depths  of  reflection,  but  received  from 
all  no  satisfactory  reply.  He  approached  the  verge  of 
skepticism,  and  was  on  the  point  of  embracing  the  cheer- 
less creed  that  there  is  nothing  certain  but  uncertainty 
when  he  heard  of  a  strange  teacher  in  the  city  of  Alex- 
andria. A  man  had  appeared  among  the  cultured  people 
of  that  city  who,  though  of  humble  rank  and  a  porter 
by  trade,  had  undertaken  to  lecture  on  philosophy,  and  to 
him  Plontinus  came.  The  young  skeptic,  to  whom  nature 
had  been  tongueless,  sat  at  the  feet  of  the  earnest  think- 
er, Ammonius  the  carrier,  and  from  his  lips  received  the 
message  that  opened  to  his  mind  the  realities  of  truth. 
Plotinus  represents  many  young  men  to  whom  these 
words  will  come.  They  have  read  themselves  into  a 
chaos  of  doubt;  and  they  are  half  persuaded  that  they 
have  been  abandoned  by  their  Creator  to  the  mock- 
ing Titans  of  error.  Why  seek  further?  Hear  this,  ye 
young:  a  greater  teacher  than  Ammonius  is  here.  He 
once  lived  among  men  in  lowly  form,  and  He  yet  lives 
in  the  immortal  revelations  of  this  Sacred  Book.  Like 
the  inquiring  Alexandrian,  humble  your  intellect  and 
learn  of  Jesus,  who  spake  as  never  man  spake;  sit  at 
His  feet;  permit  the  supernatural  to  supplement  and 
complete  the  natural,  and  then  you  shall  go  forth  en- 
riched with  truth, —  knowing  God,  knowing  self,  know- 
ing, also,  how  God  and  self  touch  each  other  and  come 
into  sacred  commerce, —  and  then  shall  you  be  able  to 
brighten  the  pathway  of  others  with  the  reflection  of 
that  light  which  fills  your  soul  with  peace  and  joy. 

"God's  voice,  not  Nature's, —  night  and  noon 
He  sits  upon  the  great  white  throne 
And  listens  for  the  creatures'  praise. 
"What  babble  we  of  days  and  days  ? 
The  Day  spring  He,  whose  clays  go  on." 


FESSIMISM. 

"Now  no  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but 
grievous;  nevertheless,  afterward  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruit  of 
righteousness  unto  them  which  are  exercised  thereby." 

Hebrews  xii,  11. 

"  Because  the  few  with  signal  virtue  crowned, 

The  heights  and  pinnacles  of  human  mind, 
Sadder  and  wearier  than  the  rest  are  found, — 

Wish  not  thy  soul  less  wise  or  less  refined. 
True,  that  the  clear  delights  that  every  day 

Cheer  and  distract  the  pilgrim  are  not  theirs; 
True,  that  though  free  from  Passion's  lawless  sway, 

A  loftier  being  brings  severer  cares ; 
Yet  have  they  special  pleasures, —  even  mirth, — 
By  those  undreamed  of  who  have  only  trod 
Life's  valley  smooth ;  and  if  the  rolling  earth 
To  their  nice  ear  have  many  a  painful  tone, 
They  know  man  does  not  live  by  joy  alone, 
But  by  the  presence  of  the  power  of  God." 

Lord  Houghton. 

PAIN  and  anguish  fill  a  large  place  in  human  life. 
Their  harsh  voices  cannot  be  silenced,  neither  can 
the  rattle  of  elegant  carriages,  nor  rush  and  din  of  com- 
merce, nor  the  clamor  of  ambitious,  eloquent  tongues, 
drown  the  solemn  pathos  of  their  discourse.  Their  baleful 
presence  stealthily  glides  everywhere,  and  everywhere  their 
shadow  falls.  They  walk  unopposed  through  the  ranks 
of  watchful  guards,  and  deliver  to  kings  their  sad  messages, 
and  they  pass  unhindered  into  humble,  peaceful  homes, 
and  speak  the  awful  word  that  withers  their  beauty  and 
blights  their  peace.  No  life  can  build  them  out,  no  foot 
can  speed  fast  enough  to  elude  them,  no  hand  can  strike 

127 


128  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

vigorously  enough  to  repel  them,  and  no  subtle  skill  can 
evade  them,  nor  any  bribe  of  affluence  corrupt  them. 
They  are  everywhere,  they  have  all  times;  yea,  they  have 
all  means  at  their  disposal,  for  they  can  impart  a  scorpion's 
sting  to  our  delights  and  poison-venom  to  our  hopes.  The 
house  we  build  to  shield  us  from  the  storm  may  but  fur- 
nish fuel  for  the  fire  that  shall  consume  our  prosperity 
and  rob  us  of  our  dear  ones;  the  adornments  which  afford 
us  harmless  pleasure  may  but  serve  to  supply  a  motive  to 
the  assassin's  knife;  the  children  we  have  reared  with  so 
much  fondness,  and  on  whose  multiplying  years  we  have 
looked  with  fond  anticipation,  may  only  prove  a  perennial 
affliction  to  our  sanguine  souls,  and  the  high  emprise,  rich 
in  promises,  may  be  but  the  herald  of  death  and  desolation. 
So  closely  interwoven  is  suffering  with  all  our  movements, 
so  strangely  interblended  with  our  felicity,  so  inseparable, 
apparently,  from  our  gladdest  and  serenest  hours,  that 
every    earnest    soul   has    felt  the  truth  of    what   Shelley 

wrote : 

"  We  look  before  and  after, 
And  pine  for  what  is  not, 
E'en  our  sincerest  laughter 
With  some  pain  is  fraught, 
Our  sweetest  songs  are  those  which  tell  of  saddest  thought." 

It  ought  not,  therefore,  to  occasion  us  much  surprise  if 
many  minds  take  on  a  despairing  mood,  and  if  many 
tongues  adopt  the  language  of  despondency.  So  difficult 
is  it  for  humanity  at  times  to  discern  the  silver  lining  in 
the  cloud  that  overshadows,  so  hard  is  it  to  realize,  under 
certain  conditions,  that  the  thick  pillar  which  precedes  us, 
as  it  did  the  Jews,  is  guiding  to  Canaan's  promised  land, 
that  nothing  is  seen  but  the  somber  shadows  of  the  savage 
wilderness  through  which  our  pathway  lies.  And  when 
the  shekinah  hides  the  Christ  of  comfort  from  our  longing 
eyes,  it  is  hard,  if  not  impossible,  for  us  to  recognize  its 


HUMA^    MISERY.  129 

brightness,  or  to  perceive  in  it  the  symbol  of  Jehovah's 
presence. 

Sometimes  an  hour's  grief  makes  us  quite  forget  a  life 
of  gladness.  We  take  our  happiness  unconcernedly,  but 
we  rage  and  storm  against  our  miseries.  The  shortest 
night  eclipses  the  radiance  of  the  longest  day,  and  one 
hour  of  storm  is  all-sufficient  to  drown  the  recollections  of 
long,  sweet  years  of  calm.  Ah  me!  that  it  should  be  so; 
that  we  should  so  chafe  and  fret,  droop  and  sink  when 
adversities  sweep  over  us  as  to  unhinge  our  reason  and 
evoke  our  bitterest  ingratitude.  That  they  work  in  many 
souls  such  dire  results  witness  the  exaggerative  views 
concerning  earthly  miseries  which  prevail  in  various  quar- 
ters, leading  to  dreary  pessimisms  and  snarling  cynicisms, 
and  which  would  crown  man's  life  with  the  morose  and 
sullen  cypress. 

Pascal  has  said,  with  pathetic  eloquence:  "Man  is  so 
great  that  his  grandeur  appears  from  the  knowledge  of 
his  own  misery.  A  tree  knows  not  that  it  is  wretched. 
True,  it  is  sad  to  know  that  we  are  miserable,  but  it  is 
also  a  mark  of  greatness  to  be  aware  of  this  misery.  Thus 
all  the  wretchedness  of  man  proves  his  nobleness.  It  is 
the  unhappiness  of  a  great  lord,  the  misery  of  a  dethroned 
king."  And  yet,  unless  he  understands  the  cause  and  the 
end  of  his  dethronement,  it  were  better  for  him  to  be  un- 
conscious of  his  loss.  That  it  is  given  him  to  realize  the 
fact  and  the  depth  of  his  afflictions  surely  indicates  that 
he  is  capable  of  ascertaining  their  meaning  and  of  falling 
in  with  their  design.  If  he  is  great  enough  to  perceive 
their  reality,  it  is  only  reasonable  to  believe  that  he  is  also 
great  enough  to  so  far  comprehend  their  significance  as  to 
deal  with  them  intelligently.  Of  this  he  has  himself  been 
profoundly  persuaded;  and  hence,  during  all  the  centuries 
man  has  been  looking  through  his  tears  on  the  problem  of 
suffering,  and  with  aching  heart  and  weary  brain  he  has 
9 


130  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

been  painfully  seeking  its  solution.  And  in  this  attitude 
his  moral  grandeur  comes  into  a  clearer  light  than  it  does 
when  he  is  simply  presented  as  gazing  in  mute,  unques- 
tioning melancholy  on  that  which  he  shrinks  from  and  of 
which  he  cannot  possibly  be  oblivious. 

The  theory  of  Pessimism,  snarled,  croaked  and  moaned 
by  a  few  elegiac,  querimonious  philosophers  in  response  to 
the. saddened  "Wherefore?"  of  humanity,  that  misery  is 
the  natural,  unavoidable  and  irremediable  condition  of  the 
race,  has  never  succeeded  in  satisfying  the  intellect  or  in 
pacifying  the  heart.  It  has  failed  to  reconcile  men  to 
their  trials  as  it  has  to  qualify  them  to  endure  their  sever- 
ity. As  a  system  it  is  a  slander  on  the  goodness  of  Deity, 
accusing  Him  of  malignancy  or  charging  Him  with  impo- 
tency,  and  as  an  explanation  it  is  simply  an  exaggeration 
of  the  mystery  which  it  undertakes  to  unfold.  To  say,  as 
it  does,  that  the  universe  is  "a  gigantic  blunder,"  "an 
escapade  of  the  Absolute,"  or  "immeasurable  lusus  na- 
turae" and  that  happiness  is  only  a  fitful  gleam  of  light 
to  render  the  prevailing  gloom  more  intense  and  unen- 
durable, or  to  intimate  that  the  end  of  life  is  to  go  down 
into  nothingness,  is  to  asperse  the  character  of  God  and 
to  leave  the  question  that  perplexes  untouched  and  unan- 
swered. The  theory  is  irrational  in  its  terms  and  paralyz- 
ing in  its  influence.  It  implies  a  Headless  universe  or  a 
heartless  Ruler;  a  reign  of  cruelty  without  motive  and 
without  advantage,  and  a  creature  helpless  to  resist  and 
powerless  to  overcome  the  fiendish  tyranny  beneath  which 
a  merciless  fate  has  placed  him. 

Pessimism  begins  with  the  repudiation  of  the  opti- 
mistic system  advocated  by  Leibnitz  in  his  JEssai  de 
Theodicee.  It  denies  that  the  Creator  had  from  a  variety 
of  possible  worlds  chosen  to  make  this  one  as  the  best, 
but  that  He  had  made  the  worst,  and  that  actually  it  is 
worse  than  none  at  all.     Nevertheless,  according  to  Von 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   MISERY.  131 

Hartmann,  though  the  existing  world  is  worse  than  none 
at  all,  still  Leibnitz  was  correct  in  asserting  that  it  is  the 
best  possible,  for  every  possible  world  is  necessarily  a  bad 
one.  Yea,  he  argues  that  it  would  have  been  better  if  the 
world  could  have  been  worse  than  it  is,  for  if  it  had  been 
only  slightly  more  wretched  humanity  before  this  would 
have  taken  its  fate  in  its  own  hands,  and  by  a  supreme  act 
of  annihilation  would  have  put  an  end  to  the  tragedy.  It 
is  assumed  that  all  existence  is  an  evil,  and  that  pleasure 
is  negative  while  pain  is  absolutely  positive.  Schopen- 
hauer looks  on  what  he  calls  "will"  as  the  cause  of  all 
things  and  the  source  of  universal  misery.  "Will"  in  his 
doctrine  stands  both  for  creation  and  Creatorship,  only  it 
is  not  to  be  identified  with  personal  volition,  but  with  an 
abstract,  mysterious  Infinity  composed  of  numberless  and 
limitless  wills.  He  further  declares  that  it  is  the  nature 
of  "will"  to  be  restless,  dissatisfied  and  corroding,  that  its 
greed  is  insatiable,  and  that,  as  a  consequence,  suffering 
is  unavoidable  and  inextinguishable.  As  long  as  will  con- 
tinues to  will,  the  weary  round  of  disappointments  must 
follow,  for  no  conceivable  object  can  yield  more  than  mo- 
mentary enjoyment,  and  therefore,  until  the  will  is  made 
to  cease  willing,  black -browed  misery  must  reign.  But 
the  cessation  of  will  means  the  cessation  of  existence,  and 
only  in  such  an  amiable  climax  can  Schopenhauer  discern 
the  true  solution  of  the  problem  of  evil.  Von  Hartmann 
substitutes  for  Schopenhauer's  metaphysical  fiction  what 
he  calls  "The  Unconscious,"  which  is  made  up  of  infinite 
will  and  omniscience,  and  which  was  harmless  until  it  be- 
gan to  create;  but  from  the  unfortunate  hour  when  it  first 
called  matter  into  being  the  deplorable  history  of  pain 
began.  The  fearful  blunder  of  creation  originated  with 
an  unexplainable  schism  in  the  Unconscious;  Will  broke 
away  from  its  primitive  harmony  with  unconscious  Reason, 
and  this  wretched  universe  was  the  result.     The  Uncon- 


132  ISMS  OLD   AND   new. 

scious  attained  to  the  Conscious  in  man,  and  is  now  busy 
seeking  by  every  means  to  return  to  its  primal  uncon- 
scious blessedness.  This  desired  end,  it  is  believed,  will 
be  consummated  through  the  discovery  of  the  utter  empti- 
ness and  hollow  illusiveness  of  life,  which  will  decide  men 
to  cease  carina:  for  themselves  and  determine  them  no 
more  to  propagate  their  species,  and  which  very  likely 
will  be  carried  into  effect  by  a  unanimous  and  simultane- 
ous act  of  self-destruction.  Thus  the  mischievous  misad- 
venture of  the  Creative  Power  will  be  effaced  and  can- 
celed in  the  nothingness  of  annihilation.  But  even  this 
poor  hope  is  questioned  by  Herr  Bahnsen,  a  Pessimist 
more  radical  and  thorough-going  than  Von  Hartmann, 
who  insists  that  as  the  human  race  by  annihilating  itself 
could  hardly  annihilate  the  power  which  originated  all 
things,  the  world  and  existence  must  continue  irrational 
and  miserable  throughout  eternity.     Delightful  logic! 

If,  as  is  implied  throughout  these  speculations,  the  uni- 
verse is  one  vast  tragic  theater,  the  object  of  which  is  no- 
happiness  to  any  one,  conducted  by  a  Superhuman  Energy 
resembling  a  designing  mind  in  everything  but  conscious- 
ness, it  follows  that  life  is  an  unqualified  curse.  And  this 
inference  is  elaborated  with  a  dreary  enthusiasm,  and  a 
pertinacious  devotion  to  details,  which  is  edifying  if  not 
convincing.  "  Human  life,"  says  Schopenhauer,  "  oscil- 
lates between  pain  and  ennui";  and  having  expressed 
the  thought  that  these  states  are  its  ultimate  elements,  he 
adds,  "driven  by  the  fear  of  ennui,  men  and  women  rush 
into  society,  thinking  to  gain  a  fleeting  pleasure  by  escap- 
ing from  themselves.  But  in  vain;  their  inseparable  foe 
renews  his  torments  only  too  surely."  In  the  same  direc- 
tion he  also  writes:  "The  history  of  every  life  is  a  history 
of  suffering,  for  the  course  of  life  is  generally  but  a  series 
of  greater  or  less  misfortunes." — "The  real  matter  of  the 
world-famed  monologue  in  Hamlet  may  be  thus  summed 


WORTHLESSNESS    OF    EXISTENCE.  133 

up:  Our  condition  is  so  wretched  that  utter  annihilation 
would  be  decidedly  preferable."  "  If,  finally,  all  the  ter- 
rible pains  and  sorrows  to  which  his  life  is  ever  exposed 
could  be  brought  before  the  eyes  of  each,  he  would  be 
seized  with  horror;  and  if  the  most  obstinate  of  optimists 
were  led  through  the  hospitals,  lazarettos,  and  surgical 
operation  rooms;  through  the  prisons,  torture-chambers, 
and  slaveholds;  over  the  fields  of  battle  and  places  of 
execution;  if  then,  those  dark  abodes  of  misery,  where  it 
creeps  out  of  the  view  of  cold  curiosity,  were  opened  to 
him;  and  finally,  a  sight  were  afforded  him  of  the  starva- 
tion of  some  Ugolino  —  he  would  surely  at  last  perceive 
what  kind  of  meilleur  des  mo  tides  possible  this  is."  And 
to  these  gloomy  outlines  he  adds  a  few  dark  shadows, 
which  impart  a  lurid  completeness  to  the  picture:  "The 
present  is  forever  becoming  the  past;  the  future  is  quite 
uncertain,  and  ever  short.  Thus  is  man's  life  a  constant 
lapse  of  the  present  into  the  dead  past,  a  constant  death." 
— "  Further,  it  is  plain  that  our  bodily  life  is  but  a  con- 
tinually checked  process  of  dying,  an  ever  postponed 
death."  "At  length  death  must  conquer;  for  by  the  very 
fact  of  birth  we  are  made  over  to  him,  and  he  is  only 
playing  awhile  with  his  prey  before  swallowing  it."  It 
is  in  vain  that  we  suggest  to  Schopenhauer  and  Von 
Hartmann  that  possibly  when  the  ignorance  ■  and  impiety 
of  the  present  are  overcome,  the  future  may  be  prolific  in 
happiness;  for  they  meet  all  such  encouraging  hopes  with 
the  forlorn  assertion  "  that  misery  grows  with  conscious- 
ness." Hence  they  remind  us  that  "  the  more  intelligent 
the  man  is  the  more  comjiletely  does  he  attain  the  full 
quantum  of  misery;  he  in  whom  genius  lives  suffers  most 
of  all";  and  more  than  this,  adds  Hartmann,  "with  all  our 
boasted  progress  the  evils  of  existence  are  just  as  great 
and  just  as  hopeless  as  they  were  centuries  ago."  Thus 
all  expectation  of  improvement  in  the  condition  of  hu- 


134  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

manity  is  utterly  baseless;  and  we  are  shut  up  either  to 
asceticism  for  the  extinction  of  the  will,  which  is  the  root 
of  all  our  trouble,  as  commended  by  Schopenhauer  in 
theory,  though  unapplied  by  him  in  practice;  or  to  utter 
worldliness,  that  the  illusions  of  life  may  be  speedily 
demonstrated,  a  course  seriously  advocated  by  Von  Hart- 
mann,  and  by  him  consistently  pursued. 

While  this  morbid  creed  is  remarkable,  the  favor  with 
which  it  is  being"  received  is  even  more  so.  Dtthring 
claims  that  it  is  "  the  most  sober  philosophy  of  the  cen- 
tury"; and  Dr.  McCosh,  in  the  Princeton  Review,  calls 
attention  to  the  fact  that  "  Of  late  years  German  students 
have  been  wandering  after  Schopenhauer  and  Hartmann; 
and  American  and  British  youths,  seeing  the  crowd,  have 
joined  them,  and  been  gazing  with  them."  But  beyond 
the  student  classes  the  popularity  of  Pessimism  in  some 
of  its  forms  is  startling.  Many  persons  in  every  commu- 
nity who  do  not  subscribe  to  all  of  its  positions  unreserv- 
edly, yet  sympathize  with  its  estimate  of  life  and  its  views 
of  death.  Thousands  who  have  never  heard  the  name  of 
the  system,  and  to  whom  it  is  meaningless,  have  already 
accepted  its  dreariest  expectations  and  its  darkest  consola- 
tions. Grief,  trial,  disappointment,  raises  the  question  in 
minds  inaccessible  to  Von  Hartmann's  speculations  as  to 
whether,  after  all,  life  can  be  called  a  blessing.  The 
ambiguity  of  the  term  "  happiness,"  as  it  is  commonly 
used,  and  the  inadequacy  of  multiplied  pleasures,  how- 
ever pure  and  refined  the  pleasures  may  be,  to  answer  to 
any  definition,  have  prepared  the  way  for  the  blank  de- 
nial which  Pessimists  pronounce.  It  is  welcomed  as  on 
the  whole  more  rational  than  any  other  answer,  if  not  as 
gratifying.  Moreover,  the  dissolute  orders  of  society  hail 
it  with  delight.  In  Paris  it  is  currently  reported  that 
books  upon  this  subject  are  being  widely  read  by  the 
demireps  and  scoundrels,  who  find  in  them  some  solace- 


VON"   HARTMANN".  135 

ment  for  the  virtue  and  integrity  they  have  bartered  for 
fleshly  joys.  Such  works,  therefore,  have  a  large  audi- 
ence, and  I  am  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  it  will  increase 
before  it  diminishes.  Not  improbably  literary  men  will 
be  tempted  by  the  avidity  with  which  the  more  senti- 
mental aspects  of  this  Ism  are  received  by  the  people,  to 
multiply  literature  on  the  subject,  and  thus  to  disseminate 
even  more  widely  than  at  present  these  doleful,  lugu- 
brious, sunless,  and  tenebrious  views.  Most  likely  the 
night  will  thicken  before  the  daybreak  comes,  and  society 
return  to  a  kind  of  philosophic  chaos  before  God  shall 
once  more  say,  "Let  there  be  light."  Such  being  the 
melancholy  outlook,  it  is  surely  the  duty  of  earnest  in- 
quirers to  do  all  in  their  power  to  mitigate,  if  they  cannot 
arrest,  the  impending  gloom;  and  this  can  only  be  done 
by  challenging  the  Pessimistic  theory,  and  suggesting  in 
its  stead  a  more  rational  and  satisfactory  explanation  of 
human  suffering. 

That  the  doctrine  of  the  Unconscious  is  a  metaphysical 
figment,  which  hardly  deserves  the  attention  of  serious 
criticism,  no  one  who  is  seeking  clear  views  and  not  mere 
entertainment  from  dialectical  gymnastics  will  for  a  mo- 
ment question.  It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  any  person 
in  sober  earnestness  can  expect  such  a  tissue  of  absurd 
speculations  as  Von  Hartmann  has  put  forth  in  the  name 
of  philosophy  to  commend  themselves  to  common  sense. 
When  that  Infinite  Indefiniteness  which  is  substituted  for 
the  Almighty  is  represented  as  divided,  the  Will  breaking 
away  from  the  unconscious  Reason,  and  the  unconscious 
Reason  then  seeking  to  overtake  and  annihilate  the  per- 
nicious Will,  into  .what  incoherencies  and  contradictions 
of  thought  are  we  thrown !  How  can  the  Will,  apart  from 
conscious  intelligence,  create,  and  how  can  intelligence, 
deprived  of  will,  determine  ?  To  will  anything  implies  a 
conscious  conception  of  the  thing  to  be  willed,  and  will 


136  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

can  no  more  will  without  intelligence  than  intelligence 
can  will  without  will.  But  according  to  Von  Hartmann 
we  are  to  credit  that  the  universe  sprang  from  the  inde- 
pendent activity  of  a  will  without  plan  and  without 
knowledge,  and  that  now  an  intelligence,  which  was  once 
unconscious,  is  seeking  to  counteract  the  maleficent  blun- 
dering of  this  will,  although  by  the  terms  of  the  preceding 
proposition  not  a  vestige  of  volitional  energy  is  left  to  it 
wherewith  to  execute  its  benevolent  intentions.  Such  an 
astounding  cosmogony  destroys  itself.  Its  terms  are  ir- 
reconcilable with  each  other,  and  contrary  to  the  funda- 
mental principles  of  thought.  Assuredly  neither  this 
involved  hypothesis  nor  that  of  Schopenhauer  possesses 
any  advantages  over  the  Theism  of  Scripture;  neither  is 
as  intelligible  nor  as  rational,  and  neither  is  as  satisfactory 
to  the  heart  nor  as  useful  to  the  life.  We  may,  therefore, 
dismiss  the  cloudy  metaphysics  of  Pessimism  as  fanciful 
and  profitless,  and  direct  our  attention  to  its  more  obvious 
teachings  and  tendencies.  That  these  are  equally  un- 
worthy of  confidence  may  be  inferred  from  the  peculiar 
circumstances  which  have  always  attended  the  origin  and 
progress  of  the  theory.  Never,  as  far  as  I  can  ascertain 
from  its  history,  has  it  appeared  among  a  people  in  the 
more  youthful  and  natural  stages  of  national  development. 
It  has  only  risen,  like  a  grim  shadow  or  unearthly  monster, 
in  after  years,  when  civilization  has  introduced  artificial 
methods  of  estimating  things,  or  general  corruption  has 
seriously  impaired  the  tone  of  buoyancy  and  hope.  When 
religion  has  been  asphyxied  by  impurities,  when  manli- 
ness has  been  atrophied  by  defective  intellectual  nourish- 
ment, and  tenclerest  affections  have  been  gangrened  by 
lascivious  •  indulgence  and  moral  filthiness,  then  has  this 
hideous  Philosophical  Nightmare  disturbed  the  repose  of 
much  afflicted  peoples.  Among  the  Hindus  it  followed  on 
the  decline  of  the  healthier  Vedic-Faith,  and  was  simply 


ORIGIN    OF    PESSIMISM.  137 

the  expression  of  the  wretched  degradation  into  which 
entire  tribes  were  falling.  Brahmanism  was  not  the  first 
religion  of  the  East.  The  first,  if  we  may  judge  from  the 
remnants  of  its  literature  which  have  descended  to  us,  was 
jocund,  elastic,  taking  bright  views  of  life  and  destiny, 
and  wholly  free  from  Pessimistic  taints.  But  wars,  ambi- 
tions, the  growth  of  caste,  and  the  multiplication  of  other 
evils,  undermined  its  strength,  and  in  its  place  arose  the 
gigantic  and  gloomy  worship  which  for  centuries  oppressed 
India.  Even  this  system  was  not  without  some  advan- 
tages, but  they  quickly  disappeared,  and  in  a  time  of 
densest  darkness  the  reformation  known  as  Buddhism  was 
inaugurated.  This  took  its  color  from  the  age  in  which  it 
originated,  and  while  it  corrected  some  abuses  and  pro- 
tested against  more,  it  taught  that  evil  is  the  very  essence 
of  existence,  that  even  in  the  lives  of  the  greatest  gods 
misery  is  feared,  and  that  all  worlds  have  been  made  in 
vain  and  are  doomed  to  wretchedness.  Among  the  Greeks 
and  Romans  this  wormwood-faith  never  prevailed;  and 
even  Diogenes  went  not  as  far  in  cynicism  as  Gautama. 
These  nations  were  not  sufficiently  morbid  for  it  to  take 
root  in  their  intellectual  soil.  Too  cheerful,  too  active, 
too  discerning  for  such  an  insalubrious  creed  to  suggest 
itself  to  them,  it  was  reserved  for  the  grave-minded,  grim- 
brooding  and  tobacco-beclouded  Germans  to  revive  and 
naturalize  it  among  Europeans.  And  this  was  not  effected 
in  recent  prosperous,  united  times;  but  when  disastrous 
wars,  social  depressions  and  commercial  stagnations  had 
prostrated  the  nation,  had  darkened  its  mind,  and  crushed 
its  heart,  Schopenhauer  wrote  of  the  great  earth-sorrow. 
If  it  shall  be  thought  singular  that  it  should  retain  its 
vitality  in  these  days  of  "unexampled  prosperity,"  let  it 
not  be  forgotten  that  we  have  drifted  into  materialism  and 
secularism,  and  that  in  a  different  way,  but  just  as  truly, 
our  century  is  as  diseased  as  the  last,  and  that  to  the  un- 


138  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

wholesome  condition  of  both  must  we  ascribe  the  beginning 
and  the  advancement  of  Pessimistic  philosophy.  Now, 
from  these  facts  its  seems  legitimate  to  conclude  that  there 
must  be  something  abnormal  in  a  theory  which  is  thus 
identified  with  abnormal  conditions  of  society.  As  we 
have  seen,  it  flourishes  only  in  a  sickly,  pestilential  social 
atmosphere,  and  it  is  no  more  than  reasonable  to  suspect 
that  it  simply  exhales  the  poison  of  its  surroundings,  and 
is,  therefore,  a  death-bearing  tree,  under  whose  shadow 
no  mind  should  be  tempted  to  seek  repose. 

It  should  also  be  remembered  that  it  is  natural  for  man, 
whatever  he  may  profess,  to  act  on  the  belief  that  life  is 
not  only  desirable,  but  is  really  worth  taking  no  small  de- 
gree of  trouble  to  enjoy.  This  was  evidently  the  rule  of 
Schopenhauer's  conduct,  however  it  may  have  run  con- 
trary to  his  creed.  He  was  no  ascetic,  and  some  of  his 
most  ardent  admirers  approximate  more  closely  to  his  ap- 
preciation of  the  good  things  to  be  found  in  this  world 
than  to  his  intellectual  ability.  Further,  it  should  not  be 
overlooked  that  many  who  charge  themselves  with  the 
task  of  exposing  the  hollowness  of  existing  institutions, 
and  who  point  out  most  distinctly  the  unutterable  woes  of 
the  race,  are  not  Pessimists,  and  have  no  sympathy  with 
their  lugubrious  estimates,  but,  like  Rousseau  and  Byron, 
believe  in  the  attainability  of  happiness,  and,  like  Carlyle 
and  Heine,  acknowledge  a  supreme,  satisfying  Something 
somewhere.  They  who  are  most  extreme  in  their  denun- 
ciation of  shams  are  most  fully  persuaded  of  an  ultimate 
outcome  in  goodness  and  blessedness.  Why,  then,  accept 
the  ungladdening  theory  of  life,  painfully  elaborated  by 
a  few  moaning  philosophers  as  an  impartial  statement, 
and  why  should  we  attach  so  much  importance  to  their 
tearful  array  of  horrors,  when,  on  the  whole,  human  con- 
sciousness testifies  to  a  clear  excess  of  enjoyment  over 
suffering  ? 


EXHAUSTLESS   CONSOLATIONS.  139 

An  apostle  speaks  of  our  afflictions  as  "  light "  in  com- 
parison with  the  "  exceeding  weight  of  glory  "  that  awaits 
us.  But,  though  the  sufferings  of  the  present  are  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  blessedness  in  reserve  for 
us,  we  are  not  to  conclude  that  here  and  now  the  contrast 
is  not  as  marked.  Inspiration  assures  us  that  "  God's 
mercies  are  new  every  morning  and  fresh  every  evening," 
and  David  reminds  his  soul,  in  language  we  may  all  adopt, 
that  He  redeems  its  life  from  destruction,  crowns  it  with 
loving-kindness,  and  satisfies  it  with  good  things,  so  that 
its  youth  is  renewed  like  the  eagle's.  According  to  the 
entire  tenor  of  Holy  Writ,  the  pleasures  of  existence  far 
outweigh  its  miseries.  The  consciousness  of  being,  the 
sense  of  personal  freedom,  and  the  realization  of  individual 
power  over  nature,  all  yield  the  most  enduring  satisfaction. 
Placed  in  a  world  where  we  have  dominion  over  the  works 
of  God's  hands,  we  find  them  serving  us  and  constantly 
ministering  to  our  enjoyment.  The  sun  not  only  lights 
our  way  by  day,  but  suffuses  our  thoughts  with  images  of 
splendor.  The  stars  not  only  shed  their  radiance  on  our 
darkness,  but  penetrate  our  minds  with  subduing  and 
sacred  influences. 

Every  beautiful  object  in  the  universe,  be  it  above, 
around  or  within  us,  has  "a  perpetual  joy-producing 
power."  The  unobtrusive  majesty  of  the  heavens,  the 
stern  grandeur  of  the  hills,  the  mobile  loveliness,  culmi- 
nating at  times  into  sublimity,  of  the  ocean,  the  modest 
gorgeousness  of  the  flowers,  whose  varied  hues  remind  us 
of  the  words  of  Ruskin:  "Of  all  God's  gifts  to  the  sight 
of  man,  color  is  the  holiest,  the  most  divine,  the  most  sol- 
emn ; "  the  somber  trees,  glittering  rainbows,  golden  sun- 
sets, and  the  endless  forms  that  diversify  and  glorify  the 
world,  appeal  to  our  deepest  emotions,  and  create  the  im- 
pression that  Spirit  is  manifested  in  all,  and  is  seeking  to 
charm  us  from  our  griefs,  and  exalt  us  above  our  sorrows: 


140  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

"  There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods, 
There  is  a  rapture  on  the  lonely  shore, 
There  is  society  where  none  intrudes 

By  the  deep  sea,  and  music  in  its  roar." 

Compared  with  these  sources  of  enjoyment,  how  mea- 
ger, trivial  and  contemptible  our  crosses,  burdens  and 
disappointments  appear.  These  we  have  always  and  ever 
accessible,  the  others  occasionally  and  temporarily.  But 
am  I  reminded  that  a  speck  in  the  eye  will  obliterate  the 
beauty  of  a  universe,  and  a  defect  in  the  ear  will  drown 
its  harmony,  and  a  grief-drop  in  the  heart  submerge  the 
ocean  of  consolation  that  gleams  around  it  calmly?  True; 
but  we  should  not  overlook  the  fact  that  the  misery  is 
incomparably  less  in  magnitude  than  these  measureless 
and  fathomless  springs  of  delight,  and  that  the  latter  offers 
more  than  a  compensation  for  the  former. 

But  in  addition  to  the  blessedness  which  God  has  com- 
mitted to  nature  for  the  comfort  of  His  creatures,  we 
should  realize  that  He  has  enriched  our  life  by  the  gift  of 
His  Son  our  Lord.  Christ  is  called  the  "  Consolation  of 
Israel,"  and  consolation  He  is  to  all  mankind.  I  fear  we  do 
not  consider  the  magnitude  of  this  gift  as  we  should,  and 
I  am  very  sure  that  no  language  can  do  it  justice.  There 
is  not  only  that  which  is  amazing  in  this  descent  of  God 
from  Himself,  but  there  is  in  it  something  assuring  and 
comforting  as  well.  The  Incarnation  attests  the  interest 
of  the  Almighty  in  the  race,  indicates  that  its  loathsome- 
ness cannot  repel  His  love,  or  its  waywardness  alienate 
His  heart.  It  was  the  apprehension  of  this  fact  that  pro- 
duced so  mighty  an  impression  on  the  ancient  world.  As 
Macaulay  says,  "  It  was  before  the  Deity  embodied  in  a 
human  form,  walking  among  men,  partaking  of  their 
infirmities,  leaning  on  their  bosoms,  weeping  over  their 
graves,  slumbering  in  the  manger,  bleeding  on  the  cross, 
that  the  prejudices  of  the  synagogue,  and  the  doubts  of 


THE   INCARNATION.  141 

the  academy,  and  the  pride  of  the  portico,  and  the  fasces 
of  the  lictor,  and  the  swords  of  thirty  legions,  were  hum- 
bled in  the  dust."  The  people  of  all  classes  and  condi- 
tions realized  that  however  fallen  and  degraded  they  were, 
God  had  not  abandoned  them,  was  not  ashamed  to  wear 
their  likeness,  or  unwilling  to  stoop  to  their  level,  that 
they  might  be  lifted  up  nearer  to  His.  This  conviction 
brought  with  it  a  sense  of  personal  elevation,  and  a  desire, 
more  or  less  pronounced,  to  do  something  worthy  this 
compassionate  condescension.  Thus  ought  it  always  to 
affect  us.  But  whether  it  does  or  not,  it  yet  remains  true 
that  the  Incarnation  articulates  many  precious  assurances. 
It  removes  all  suspicion  of  a  malignant  purpose  in  crea- 
tion, or  of  an  evil  will  potent  to  create,  and  of  an  uncon- 
scious reason  impotent  to  restrain.  When  feeling  friend- 
less and  forsaken,  it  assures  us  that  God  is  mindful.  When 
sadly  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  personal  un worthiness,  it 
reminds  us  of  the  value  the  Almighty  attaches  to  humani- 
ty; when  disheartened  by  the  repeated  losses  of  fortune 
and  friends,  it  reveals  inexhaustible  affluence  in  the  Su- 
preme; and  when  death  invades,  and  things  of  earth  are 
fading  from  the  sight,  and  its  charms  have  perished  from 
desire,  the  Incarnation  proclaims  anew  the  amazing  union 
of  God  with  man,  pledging  alike  his  immortality  and 
felicity. 

These  sources  of  pleasure  would  hardly  be  available 
were  it  not  for  another, —  one  that  lies  within  the  reach  of 
all  and  which  imparts  to  everything  a  charm,  even  glori- 
fying the  storm-cloud  with  the  rainbow's  brilliant  hues. 
You  have  frequently  heard  the  preacher  in  rugged  phrase 
urge  the  people  listening  to  his  words  to  "repent  and  be 
converted."  Possibly  you  have  been  disposed  to  sneer  at 
his  earnest  exhortation,  and  to  hold  in  derision  the  duty 
he  enjoined.  And  yet  the  change  expressed  by  the  now 
familiar  term  "conversion"  is  of  all  others  the  most  pre- 


142  ISMS   OLD    AND    NEW. 

cious  for  this  life,  whatever  may  be  its  relation  to  the  life 
hereafter.  When  the  Scriptures  describe  it  they  employ 
the  most  radical  figures  of  speech  to  convey  an  adequate 
idea  of  its  grandeur.  They  call  it  a  "new  birth,"  a  "resur- 
rection from  the  dead,"  and  they  liken  it  to  the  opening 
of  blind  eyes,  and  to  freedom  from  a  prison-house.  These 
words  imply  a  total  transformation  of  the  man.  His  re- 
stored sight  enables  him  to  see  evil  in  its  true  light,  and 
he  shrinks  from  it  and  saves  himself  from  many  sorrows; 
his  soul,  emancipated  from  the  grave  of  dull  materialism, 
rises  to  the  consciousness  of  a  spiritual  universe  and 
clearly  discerns  that  "life  is  more  than  meat  and  the 
body  than  raiment,"  and  being  freed  from  bondage  to 
tyrant  passion,  he  gladly  accepts  the  yoke  of  Christ  and 
rests  securely  in  His  grace.  It  is  this  change  that  enables 
us  to  appreciate  and  appropriate  the  beauties  and  joys 
that  nature,  and  religion,  too,  lavish  so  abundantly  upon 
us.  Thomas  Carlyle,  albeit  not  a  Christian  after  the 
straitest  sort,  and  somewhat  unorthodox  in  his  speech 
and  thought,  yet  in  his  Reminiscences  can  recall  a  day, 
forever  notable  in  his  calendar,  when  he  was  transformed 
from  his  old  self  into  something  higher.  In  referring  to 
this  period,  he  writes:  "This  year  I  found  that  I  had  con- 
quered all  my  skepticisms,  agonizing  doubtings,  fearful 
wrestling  with  the  foul  and  vile  and  soul-murdering  mud- 
gods  of  my  epoch;  had  escaped  as  from  a  worse  than  Tar- 
tarus, with  all  its  Phlegethons  and  Stygian  quagmires,  and 
was  emerging  free  in  spirit  into  the  eternal  blue  of  ether, 
where,  blessed  be  heaven,  I  have  for  the  spiritual  part  ever 
since  lived.  .  .  .  What  my  pious  joy  and  gratitude  then 
was  let  the  pious  soul  figure.  In  a  fine  and  veritable 
sense,  I,  poor,  obscure,  without  outlook,  almost  without 
worldly  hope,  had  become  independent  of  the  Avorld. 
What  was  death  itself,  from  the  world,  to  what  I  had 
come  through  ?     I  understood  well  what  the  old  Christian 


carlyle's  conversion-.  143 

people  meant  by  *  conversion,'  by  God's  infinite  mercy  to 
them."  He  adds:  "For  a  number  of  years  I  had  ...  a 
constant  inward  happiness  that  was  quite  royal  and  su- 
preme, in  which  all  temporal  aid  was  transient  and  insig- 
nificant, and  which  essentially  remains  with  me  still, 
though  far  oftener  eclipsed  and  lying  deeper  down  than 
then."  In  almost  identical  terms  have  all  the  saints, — 
the  Pauls,  the  Augustines,  the  Bunyans,  the  Newtons, — 
recorded  the  marvelous  dealings  of  God  with  them;  and 
similar  the  experience  of  every  man  who  yearns  for  knowl- 
edge of  a  higher  world  than  this  poor,  noisy,  muddy  one 
of  sight  and  sense.  Think  not,  then,  lightly  of  this  gra- 
cious change,  but,  inspired  by  the  words  of  the  gruff- 
grim  cynic,  seek  that  spirit  which  will  make  God's  benefi- 
cence clear  and  dear  to  you  forever.  Not  alone,  however, 
should  the  Divine  provisions  for  our  happiness  by  their 
magnitude  be  measured;  they  should  as  well  be  estimated 
by  their  multiplicity.  They  are  manifold,  reaching  in  par- 
ticular to  every  relation  and  condition  of  life;  so  numer- 
ous are  they  that  they  cannot  be  counted  up  in  order  or 
followed  in  their  bearings.  As  the  universe  in  vastness, 
they  are  also  like  the  universe  in  endless  variety  and  com- 
pleteness. Not  a  sorrow,  not  a  burden,  not  a  temptation, 
not  a  bereavement,  not  a  disappointment,  not  a  care,  not 
a  groan  or  tear,  but  has  its  antidote  in  God's  rich  and  in- 
exhaustible resources,  which  are  available  for  human  com- 
fort. You  cannot  imagine  a  state  of  evil,  of  grief  how- 
ever deep,  of  wretchedness  however  profound,  but  the 
Almighty  has  anticipated.  He  has  given  us  exceeding 
great  and  precious  promises,  and  with  the  promises  the 
more  precious  realities,  and  by  these  we  may  judge  how 
completely  he  has  provided  against  the  ills  from  which  we 
suffer,  though  we  never  may  be  able  to  explore  their  deep 
and  loving  wealth  of  meaning. 

But  while  these  manifold  sources  of  happiness  may  be 


144  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

admitted,  there  yet  confronts  us  the  huge  problem,  not 
without  difficulties,  perhaps  not  wholly  without  inexplical- 
ities,  of  human  suffering.  What  can  be  said  about  it? 
What  can  be  offered  by  way  of  solution  ?  Evidently  noth- 
ing on  the  part  of  Pessimism,  for  the  repeated  picturings 
of  its  intensity,  in  which  it  indulges,  do  not  possess  the 
first  element  of  elucidation.  The  Bible  may  not  be  able  to 
remove  all  mystery,  but  its  account  of  the  matter  is  cer- 
tainly less  demonstrably  false  and  less  palpably  fabulous. 

According  to  its  teachings  God  is  love;  and  all  the 
processes  of  severity  in  His  government  are  in  harmony 
with  this  spirit.  He  is  seeking  the  well-being  of  his  crea- 
tures, and  as  they  are  moral  agents,  and  as  they  are  in 
sin,  suffering  becomes  an  essential  condition  of  their 
progress.  Unquestionably  it  is  represented  by  the  Sacred 
Book  as  retributive,  but  it  is  also  described  as  being  dis- 
ciplinary and  corrective.  While  it  is  in  some  sense  the 
result  of  transgression,  and  while  in  some  cases  it  simply 
serves  to  mark  the  heinousness  of  iniquity,  and  to  brand 
it  with  its  true  character  in  this  world  and  in  the  world  to 
come,  it  is  broadly  designed,  in  this  life  at  least,  to  re- 
strain, to  rebuke,  to  rectify,  and  to  reclaim.  It  is  a 
measure  of  reform,  a  means  of  development,  a  refining 
and  elevating  force  in  the  education  of  man.  This  is 
especially  the  view  of  Paul  in  the  chapter  from  which  the 
text  has  been  chosen.  He  compares  the  dealings  of  God 
with  us  to  those  of  an  earthly  father  with  his  children. 
Chastening  he  alludes  to  as  a  sign  of  sonship;  and  argues 
that  it  is  inflicted  not  for  the  pleasure  of  the  parent  but 
for  the  profit  of  the  child.  He  declares  that  it  is  a  proof 
of  love  in  Him  who  orders  it,  should  be  recognized  as 
such  by  him  who  receives  it,  and  should  be  endured  and 
valued  on  account  of  "the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteous- 
ness "  which  it  is  fitted  to  produce. 

This  explanation  is,  in   my  opinion,  worthy  the  most 


SUFFERING   IN    ART.  145 

serious  consideration  of  every  tried  and  tired  searcher  for 
truth,  bringing  to  the  mind  content  and  to  the  soul  com- 
fort. 

It  is  deserving  of  note  that  this  view  does  not  seek  to 
lessen  or  to  hide  the  grievousness  of  affliction.  Truly  is 
it  said  by  the  apostle  in  the  text,  that  "  no  chastening  for 
the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous."  He  does  not  mis- 
represent its  real  character.  It  is  in  itself  an  evil,  what- 
ever good  may  flow  from  it;  it  is  a  curse,  although  it  may 
yield  a  blessing.  Man  cannot  bring  himself  to  desire  it, 
and  can  hardly  refrain  from  shrinking  at  its  approach.  It 
were  unnatural  for  him  to  covet  adversity,  disease,  and 
disaster;  or  to  welcome  among  his  household  treasures 
the  destroyer  death.  Who  is  there  that  does  not  instinct- 
ively try  to  avert  calamity  and  to  evade  correction  ?  The 
child  does  not  anxiously  seek  the  rod,  though  healing 
may  result  from  its  stripes;  and  neither  do  we  pine  for 
chastisement,  though  assured  that  it  is  administered  for 
our  profit.  Poets,  philosophers,  painters  have  rightly  in- 
terpreted this  feeling  when  in  their  works  they  have 
sought  to  express  the  human  fear  of  suffering.  The 
dread  of  it,  the  aversion  to  it  which  is  common  to  us  all, 
they  reproduce  in  their  representations  of  its  character. 
We  see  in  their  conceptions,  whether  wrought  out  by  pen 
or  chisel,  that  which  gives  pain,  not  pleasure,  or  at  the 
most  only  painful  pleasure,  which  repels  while  it  fasci- 
nates. The  lamentations  of  antiquity  over  the  misery  of 
life  do  not  enliven  our  spirits  or  gladden  our  heart. 
When  Homer  plaintively  declares  that  no  creatures  are 
more  miserable  than  men;  when  Pindar  represents  them 
as  a  shadowy  dream,  or  Sophocles  compares  them  to  a 
vapor's  shade;  or  when  Pliny  says  that  many  have 
thought  it  the  best  lot  never  to  have  been  born,  we  are 
not  thrilled  with  delight  at  our  condition,  nor  find  our- 
selves inclined  to  rejoice.  Rather,  if  we  are  endowed 
10 


146  ISMS   OLD   A3STD   NEW. 

with  a  contemplative  mind,  we  are  filled  with  melancholy 
and  overcome  by  sadness.  However  heroic  Prometheus 
may  awaken  in  us  a  sense  of  awe  and  admiration,  we  have 
no  yearnings  for  his  rock  and  vulture;  and  however  the 
Laocoon  may  impress  us  with  its  sublimity,  we  would  not 
willingly  take  the  place  of  the  tall,  massive,  central  figure, 
around  which  is  twined  the  serpent's  slimy  folds,  and 
whose  face  reveals  the  agony  of  despair.  Niobe  in  tears 
awakens  no  desire  for  partnership  in  her  grief;  and  what- 
ever other  forms  ancient  or  modern  art  has  given  to  suf- 
fering, they  elicit  from  us  no  longing  to  realize  them  in 
our  own  experience.  Upon  them  all  we  read  the  verifica- 
tion of  the  apostolic  statement:  "Now  no  chastening  for 
the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but  grievous." 

That  this  is  so  should  not  occasion  us  anxiety  or  dis- 
tress. I  suppose  that  there  are  those  among  my  readers 
who  regard  their  lack  of  avidity  to  receive  afflictions  as  a 
sign  of  unpardonable  weakness,  or  of  absolute  degener- 
acy. Because  Paul  once  said  that  he  gloried  in  tribula- 
tions, they  may  have  formed  the  impression  that  they, 
too,  should  contemplate  them  with  delight.  But  if  they 
will  only  recall  the  entire  passage  where  this  expres- 
sion occurs,  they  will  perceive  that  it  was  uttered  in  view 
of  the  patience  and  the  hope  which  sufferings  are  calcu- 
lated to  produce,  and  not  because  of  anything  pleasurable 
in  the  sufferings  themselves.  He  gloried  in  the  one  for 
the  sake  of  the  other;  but  he  was  far  from  contradicting 
in  his  letter  to  the  Romans  the  sentiment  of  our  text, 
which  he  addressed  to  the  Hebrews.  That  we  feel  the 
sharpness  of  God's  rod,  and  cry  out  under  the  weight  of 
His  hand,  are  not  evidences  of  inbred  corruption,  but  of 
our  human  sensibility,  without  which  the  design  of  chas- 
tisement would  fail.  God  means  us  to  be  pained  when 
He  sends  painful  afflictions;  He  means  us  to  weep  when 
He  touches  the  springs  of  sorrow,  and  he  means  us  to 


UNWISE    COMFORTERS.  147 

moan  when  the  plowshare  goes  through  our  heart.  If  we 
did  not  feel  the  miseries  we  experience,  if  we  would  just 
as  soon  be  freighted  with  them  as  with  joys,  if  our  na- 
tures were  indifferent  to  either;  that  is,  if  we  were  imper- 
vious to  impressions,  then  the  possibility  of  their  influenc- 
ing us  for  good  would  cease.  This  sensitiveness,  which 
morbid  souls  interpret  as  something  inconsistent  with 
piety,  is  the  condition  on  which  the  beneficent  action  of 
chastisement  depends,  just  as  d notability  and  pliability 
are  required  in  the  material  on  which  the  plastic  hand 
would  exercise  its  skill.  We  do  not  plow  adamant.  "  The 
hard  rock  that  breaks  the  share  will  not  nourish  the  seed, 
but  the  soft  earth  that  yields  to  the  sharp  iron  will  bear 
the  harvest;"  and  the  brittle  stone  that  shivers  beneath  the 
sculptor's  chisel  grows  never  into  form  of  beauty,  while 
the  white  marble,  which  resists  and  yet  succumbs,  grace- 
fully receives  the  fairest  ideal  tlrat  ever  haunted  poet's 
soul. 

Let  us  not,  then,  mourn  because  we  shrink  from  evil; 
for  that  shrinking  proves  that  the  evil  will  not  be  in  vain 
when  it  comes.  Neither  let  us  despond  if,  while  the 
storms  rage  and  beat  upon  us,  we  fail  to  discern  their 
justice  and  beneficence.  When  driven  by  their  fury  it  is 
natural  that  we  should  be  blinded,  confused,  and  startled; 
and  it  is  equally  natural  that  we  should  be  incapable  of 
candid  thought  and  reasonable  judgment.  Yet  I  have 
known  persons,  when  the  whirlwind  had  smitten  a  fellow- 
being  to  the  ground  and  left  him  mourning  in  dire  dis- 
tress, wonder  why  he  was  not  comforted  by  their  pious 
platitudes  and  sustained  by  their  wearisome  conventional- 
isms. Yea,  they  have  even  affected  solicitude  for  the 
spiritual  condition  of  him  who,  when  crushed,  maddened, 
and  lacerated,  could  not  reply  in  set  phrases  to  their  jar- 
gon about  resignation  and  submission.  Believe  me,  it  is 
no  time  for  words  when  the  wounds  are  fresh  and  bleed- 


148  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

ing;  no  time  for  homilies  when  the  lightning's  shaft  has 
smitten  and  the  man  lies  stunned  and  stricken.  Then  let 
the  comforter  be  silent;  let  him  sustain  by  his  presence, 
not  by  his  preaching;  by  his  sympathetic  silence,  not  by 
his  speech.  "Afterward,"  when  the  storm  is  spent,  he  may 
venture  to  open  his  mouth;  "afterward,"  when  the  morn 
has  dawned,  he  may  seek  "to  justify  the  ways  of  God  to 
man;"  for  "afterward"  the  sufferer  will  be  prepared  to 
hear,  and  "  afterward  "  the  sufferer  himself  may  be  able  to 
extract  sweetness  from  bitterness,  music  from  mourning, 
songs  from  sorrow,  and  "  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteous- 
ness "  from  the  root  of  wretchedness  and  woe. 

The  ultimate  profitableness  of  chastisement  is  the  next 
aspect  of  the  subject  suggested  by  the  text.  Paul  assures 
us  that  it  is  not  necessarily  barren  of  results,  but  that  it 
"yieldeth  "; — "tribulation  worketh  patience;  and  patience, 
experience;  and  experience,  hope;"  and  "these  light  af- 
flictions which  endure  but  for  a  moment  shall  work  in  us 
a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  Not 
in  vain  need  our  sufferings  be;  not  in  vain  need  our  tears 
be  shed;  but  from  them  we  may  reap  immortal  blessedness 
and  imperishable  fruit. 

It  is  a  fact  that  strikingly  points  in  the  direction  of 
this  conclusion,  that  the  most  powerful  and  progressive 
nations  are  those  which  have  been  called  to  pass  through 
the  severest  trials  and  the  most  painful  convulsions.  The 
life  of  Greece  grew  and  became  strong  by  these  means; 
the  Romans  advanced  to  their  commanding  position  along 
the  highway  of  war  and  revolution,  while  England  has 
secured  and  preserved  her  greatness  at  the  cost  of  ease 
and  quiet.  She  has  lived  in  a  hurricane  for  a  thousand 
years;  she  has  been  devastated  by  civil  wars;  she  has 
been  prostrated  by  commercial  panics,  and  has  rarely  en- 
joyed a  season  of  absolute  repose.  The  same  is  true  of 
America,  only  in  a  less  degree.     The  miseries  incidental 


SUFFERINGS   OF   GENIUS.  149 

to  the  revolution  seemed  to  develop  sterling  virtues;  the 
war  for  the  Union  elevated  the  tone  of  our  national  char- 
acter; and  the  recent  prostration  of  our  business  interests, 
that  entailed  untold  sufferings  on  the  people,  failed  not  to 
yield  us  enduring  profit.  And  what  is  thus  manifest  in 
the  history  of  nations  is  equally  apparent  in  that  of  in- 
dividuals. The  men  whom  we  count  great  were  not  un- 
acquainted with  privation,  grief,  and  agony.  They  grew 
in  volcanic  soil;  they  were  fostered  by  the  fcehn,  and  were 
nourished  by  the  desert.  Genius  has  ever  had  to  be  cru- 
cified that  it  might  rise  from  the  dead  on  the  third  day; 
virtue  has  ever  had  to  wear  the  crown  of  thorns  for  it  to 
inherit  the  diadem  of  praise.  The  mystery  of  grace  has 
been  constantly  reexhibited  in  the  lives  of  poets,  artists, 
and  reformers.  Rich  in  ideas,  they  have  had  to  become 
poor  in  fortune  that  we,  through  their  poverty,  might  be 
made  rich.  I  do  not  now  recall  any  great  production  or 
any  sublime  endeavor  that  was  not  preceded  by  suffering 
of  some  kind.  Pascal  sorrowed  deeply  before  he  thought 
sweetly;  and  he  thought  painfully  before  he  wrote  sym- 
pathetically. Milton  had  tasted  of  misfortune's  cup  and 
had  braved  the  storms  of  four  and  fifty  years  before  he 
could  sins:  of  Paradise  and  of  man's  woeful  fall.  Poor 
Jean  Paul  but  expresses  his  own  experience  when  he  says 
that  the  bird  sings  sweeter  whose  cage  has  been  darkened, 
for  his  song  broke  not  on  human  ear  until  he  had  strug- 
gled long  with  the  thick,  chill  shadows  of  poverty.  Car- 
lyle  was  a  dreary  dyspeptic  before  he  accomplished  any- 
thing great  in  literature;  and  but  for  Robert  Hall's  spinal 
malady  the  world  might  never  have  been  thrilled  by  his 
matchless  eloquence.  A  gentle,  humble  poet  once  de- 
clared that  his  soul  was  in  his  poems;  but  it  is  only  after 
familiarity  with  anguish  that  the  soul  seems  capable  of 
conceiving  ideals  above  mediocrity  and  worthy  of  being 
actualized   either   in    stately   verse  or   in   gleaming   mar- 


150  ISMS   OLD    AND   NEW. 

ble.  Perhaps  this  accounts  for  the  fact,  to  which  Stol- 
berg  calls  attention,  that  the  faces  of  the  immortal  an- 
tique statues  of  gods  and  men  wear  an  expression  of  se- 
vere and  serious  melancholy.  This  also  may  explain  the 
pensive  sadness  that  marks  the  loftier  and  deeper  poetry. 
The  anguish  that  disciplines  mind  and  heart,  and  of  which 
is  born  their  most  magnificent  creations,  necessarily  leaves 
trace  of  its  sighs  and  tears  on  page  and  canvas  and  on 
sculptured  stone.  And  perhaps  it  is  owing  to  the  unen- 
durableness  of  this  inward  agony  that  so  many  of  earth's 
gifted  ones  speedily  succumb  to  death  after  they  have 
charmed  the  world  with  the  plaintive  melody  of  their 
sweetness.  The  fires  that  quicken  their  powers  consume 
their  life;  the  conflicts  that  develop  their  strength  under- 
mine their  vigor,  and  the  sorrowful  strife  that  violently 
rouses  slumbering  greatness,  and  that  achieves  at  a  stroke 
undying  fame,  shortens  the  number  of  their  days. 

"  The  mightiest  tone  that  music  knows 

But  breaks  the  harp-string  with  the  sound ; 
And  genius  still,  the  more  it  glows, 
But  wastes  the  lamp  whose  life  bestows 
The  light  it  sheds  around." 

If  chastisement  is  thus  efficacious  in  awakening  genius, 
it  is  natural  to  conclude  that  it  is  potent  in  perfecting 
character.  According  to  the  testimony  of  Paul  in  this 
chapter,  it  is  sent  upon  us  that  we  may  be  made  partakers 
of  God's  holiness.  As  common  opaque  substances  crystal- 
lize through  the  action  of  fire  into  sapphires,  emeralds, 
and  other  precious  stones,  so  the  carnal  man,  through  the 
power  of  suffering,  may  be  transformed  into  the  spiritual. 
As  I  have  seen  the  dull,  leaden  clouds  and  the  chilly  rains 
at  evening  time  transmuted  by  the  setting  sun  into  golden 
mountains  and  into  mists  of  fire,  and  seen  every  water-line 
of  the  shower  changed  into  an  effulgent  thread  connecting 
earth  with  heaven,  so  have  I  known  the  declining  orb  of 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   SORROW.  151 

prosperity  to  surcharge  the  gloomy  thoughts  and  driving- 
passions  that  darkened  the  firmament  of  the  soul  with  a 
strange  light, —  a  light  that  converted  night  into  day  and 
scowling  deformities  into  shapes  of  beauty.  Of  Christ 
it  is  written  that  He  was  "made  perfect  through  suffer- 
ing;" and,  while  the  declaration  may  specifically  refer 
to  His  official  qualification  as  mediator,  it  can  hardly  be 
supposed  to  include  nothing  else.  Remember  it  is  also 
said :  "  For  in  that  He  Himself  hath  suffered,  being 
tempted,  He  is  able  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted;" 
"For  we  have  not  an  high  priest  which  cannot  be  touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities,  but  was  in  all  points 
tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin."  Here  His  ability 
to  rescue  us  from  our  trials  is  attributed  to  His  own  ex- 
perience in  trial,  which  is  but  another  way  of  saying  that 
He  attained  this  height  gradually  and  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  painful  vicissitudes.  We  are  told  that  "  He 
grew  in  wisdom  and  in  knowledge,"  and  the  school  where- 
in much  of  it  was  acquired  was  evidently  the  school  of 
suffering.  And  there  also  must  the  disciple  learn;  and 
many  who  have  returned  from  its  solemn  courts  have  given 
abundant  proofs  that  they  have  not  submitted  to  its  dis- 
cipline in  vain. 

Among  the  personal  advantages  which  they  seem  to 
derive  from  its  severe  regime  may  be  mentioned  increased 
self-reliance,  patience,  sympathy,  charity,  and  devoutness. 
These  precious  graces  have  frequently  glorified  and 
crowned  the  characters  of  those  who  have  been  "tempest- 
tossed  and  afflicted."  Their  dreary  failures  and  disas- 
ters, which  leave  them  friendless  in  the  hour  of  need, 
which  alienate  from  them  human  support,  and  which  con- 
vince them  of  the  selfishness  of  their  fellows,  throw  them 
back  on  their  own  energies  and  the  helpfulness  of  God. 
Whatever  reserve  force  slumbers  in  them  is  quickened, 
stimulated,  and  brought  into  action  by  their  trial,  and  they 


152  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

become  conscious  of  a  new  manhood  born  of  the  tempest. 
In  their  solitude  they  look  to  the  Invisible,  and  their 
spiritual  sight,  clarified  by  their  tears,  discerns  in  Him 
unchanging  Fatherhood.  By  the  hands  of  faith,  made 
sensitive  through  pain,  they  feel  for  Him  in  the  darkness, 
and  discover  that  "He  is  not  far  from  every  one  of  us." 
Losing  man,  they  find  God  ;  ceasing  to  lean  on  their 
fellow-beings,  they  come  to  realize  how  to  rest  in  self,  sus- 
tained by  that  arm  whose  strength  is  measureless.  The  dis- 
appointments experienced,  and  the  evanescence  of  earthly 
possessions  and  of  earthly  joys  rudely  forced  upon  them 
by  consuming  blows,  refine  their  natures  of  worldly  am- 
bitions and  desires,  and  gradually  enable  them  to  bear 
without  murmuring  the  misfortunes  of  their  lot.  They 
are  brought  to  value  time  less,  and  eternity  more  ;  to 
give  place  to  more  of  heaven  in  their  hearts,  and  to  less 
of  earth.  And  as  their  sorrows  multiply  their  patience 
grows,  until,  with  sweet,  unruffled  quiet,  they  can  con- 
front the  ills  of  life,  and,  though  inwardly  wincing,  can 
calmly  pursue  their  way  to  the  restful  grave,  while  their 
old,  harsh  voices  are  softly  cadenced  into  sweetest  melody 
like  the  faint  notes  of  an  angel's  whispered  song.  As 
patience  deepens,  charity  and  sympathy  increase.  They 
draw  near  to  others,  pitying  their  woes  and  forgetting 
their  sad  follies.  Their  own  weaknesses  make  them  con- 
siderate of  their  fellow-beings,  and  their  own  loneliness 
makes  them  kind  and  thoughtful.  Griefs  melt  their  stub- 
born hearts  to  tenderness,  failures  humble  their  pride  to 
lowliness,  afflictions  and  bereavements  subdue  their  bitter 
discontents,  and  fill  them  with  sweet  harmonies  of  love 
and  peace.     Schiller  sublimely  sings: 

"  If,  in  the  woes  of  actual  human  life, — 
If  thou  could' st  see  the  serpent  strife 

Which  the  Greek  art  has  made  divine  in  stone, 
Could'st  see  the  writhing  limbs,  the  livid  cheek, 


THE   FAILURE   OF    AFFLICTIONS.  153 

Note  every  paug,  and  hearken  every  shriek, 

Of  some  despairing,  lost  Laocoon, 
The  human  nature  would  thyself  subdue, 

To  share  the  human  woe  before  thine  e}e ;  — 
Thy  cheek  would  pale,  and  all  thy  soul  be  true 

To  man's  great  sympathy." 

And  they  who  have  learned  in  the  school  of  anguish, 
and  of  whose  graces  I  have  spoken,  have  attained  to  the 
poet's  ideal,  and  measurably  to  the  image  of  Him  who 
"was  made  perfect  through  suffering." 

But  not  all  who  pass  its  portals  are  thus  enriched. 
That  they  are  I  have  not  presumed  to  intimate;  such  a 
thing  I  dare  not  here  affirm.  The  text  does  not  teach  it, 
the  Bible  does  not  warrant  it.  Chastisement  does  not 
necessarily  "yield  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness." 
It  is  conditioned;  it  is  promised  only  to  those  who  are 
"exercised"  by  their  trials  and  calamities.  Many  a  time 
have  men  and  women  been  made  harder,  colder,  unkinder, 
and  more  irreligious  by  the  bitterness  of  their  lot.  They 
have  been  taught,  but  they  would  not  learn;  they  have 
been  bereaved,  but  they  grew  no  better;  they  have  been 
deprived  of  their  health,  friends  and  fortune,  but  they 
were  drawn  no  nearer  heaven.  Ah  me!  it  is  a  sad  sight 
to  see  one  who  has  lost  this  world  and  is  careless  of  the 
other,  who  has  no  hope  here  and  none  in  the  hereafter; 
who  after  all  the  scourgings  he  has  endured  has  gained  no 
wisdom  and  no  profit.  Sad  indeed  to  think  that  he  may 
so  have  perverted  the  meaning  of  God's  discipline  as  to 
see  in  it  only  unjust  harshness  and  cruelty,  and  hence  to 
have  grown  under  it  cynical,  morose,  discontented  and 
defiant.  Such  people  I  have  met  with.  Complaining, 
murmuring,  fretful;  their  hearts  clothed  with  blackness 
and  their  faces  with  anger,  they  would  not  believe  any- 
thing good  of  God,  but,  rushing  into  Pessimistic  folly, 
have  cherished  their  maddening  thoughts  of  injury  to  the 


154  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

last.  They  have  preferred  to  think  of  Him  as  a  tyrant, 
and  themselves  as  outraged  victims,  whose  only  recourse 
is  moody  melancholy.  But  how  vain  and  foolish  in  this 
manner  to  rebel  ag'ainst  suffering-.  Every  creature  has 
to  meet  it,  has  to  bear  it,  and  all  our  defiant  talk  is 
of  no  avail.  If  we  will,  we  can  pluck  a  fragrant  flower 
from  the  thorn-bush;  if  we  so  determine,  we  can  obtain 
the  fairest  colors  from  the  mire;  but  if  we  are  lacerated  to 
death  by  the  sharp  spines  of  the  one,  or  are  buried  in  the 
ooze  of  the  other,  we  have  only  ourselves  to  blame.  Who- 
soever is  rightly  "exercised"  by  his  afflictions  will  find 
them  working  together  for  good;  whosoever  is  not,  will 
find  them  working  together  for  evil.  What  I  suppose  the 
apostle  means  by  this  expression  is  simply  that  the  wise 
man  will  lay  his  trials  soberly  and  seriously  to  heart,  will 
seek  to  trace  their  origin  and  discover  their  design.  He 
will  meditate  upon  them,  not  in  the  proud  spirit  of  him 
who  disdains  correction  and  feels  that  he  is  above  chastise- 
ment. He  will  ponder  them,  not  in  the  mood  of  one 
whose  vanity  has  received  a  shock,  and  whose  self-esteem 
has  been  mortified.  No,  not  like  these;  for  these  are  they 
who  stumble  on  in  arrogant  folly  to  the  end. 

He  who  is  "exercised"  aright  will  realize  that  he  has 
much  to  learn,  and  that  God  alone  can  teach.  Conscious 
of  his  sonship,  he  will  feel  that  he  has  a  right  to  enjoy  his 
Father's  discipline  and  care,  and  that  God  would  be  deal- 
ing with  him  as  an  alien  were  He  to  forego  its  rigid  admin- 
istration. He  desires  the  interest  of  Divinity  in  his  wel- 
fare, though  it  may  lead  to  bitter  experiences,  and  he  calls 
upon  Him  to  deal  with  him  as  a  child  lest  he  should  prove 
an  outcast.  Believing  in  the  Father's  love  and  wisdom, 
he  is  assured  that  no  unnecessary  stroke  will  fall,  and  no 
useless  or  unendurable  loss  be  inflicted.  When  the  dark- 
ness thickens,  when  misery  increases,  when  sun,  moon  and 
stars  fail  from  his  little  heaven   of  earthly  joy,   he   will 


SANCTIFIED   SUFFERING.  155 

meekly  bow  beneath  the  rod,  or  draw  closer  to  the  hand 
that  wields  it,  and  will  look  up  into  his  Father's  face  to 
discern  the  meaning  of  the  scourge.  And  when  by  faith 
he  sees  that  the  Father's  face  is  sadder  than  his  own  poor 
human  heart,  he  will  cease  from  all  repinings,  and  will  put 
away  everything  that  grieves  a  love  so  tender  and  severe. 
It  is  this  spirit  that  converts  afflictions  into  blessings, 
and  it  is  this  spirit  that  perceives  the  reason  why  our  life 
is  beset  by  ills,  and  is  burdened  with  unnumbered  cares. 
When  it  is  fostered  ghastly  Pessimism  will  cease  to  haunt, 
and  a  healthier  philosophy  of  the  evil  in  the  earth  prevail. 
Cultivate  it,  one  and  all;  cultivate  it  as  you  would  taste 
some  drops  of  happiness  in  this  weary  world,  and  cultivate 
it  as  you  would  carry  with  you  a  nature  refined  from  sin 
to  that  world  where  the  ministry  of  chastisement  is  un- 
known. And  when  the  gates  of  this  school  of  suffering 
forever  close  in  death,  may  the  portals  of  heaven  open  to 
your  rejoicing  souls,  and  there  the  peaceable  fruit  of 
righteousness  eternally  be  yours. 


BUDDHISM. 

"He  was  not  that  light,  but  was  sent  to  bear  witness  of  that 
light."  John  i.  8. 

"  The  Scripture  of  the  Saviour  of  the  World, 
Lord  Buddha, —  Prince  Sidd&rtha  styled  on  earth, — 
In  earth  and  heavens  and  hells  incomparable, 
All-honored,  Wisest,  Best,  most  Pitiful ; 
The  Teacher  of  Nirvana  and  the  law." 

Edwin  Arnold. 

JOHN  was  not  the  only  herald  of  the  light.  Others 
before  him  were  as  the  gray  of  morning  to  the  rising 
of  the  king  of  clay.  In  other  lands,  and  in  times  remote, 
prophets  and  reformers,  some  of  whom  were  even  looked 
upon  as  saviors,  had  appeared,  preparing  the  thought  of 
the  world,  both  by  their  doctrines  and  their  lives,  for  the 
approach  of  Him  who  should  be  alike  its  Teacher  and  its 
Redeemer.  Such  were  Confucius,  Lao-tse,  Zarathustra, 
and,  perhaps  beyond  all  others,  that  personage  now  be- 
coming widely  known  through  the  poem  of  Edwin  Arnold, 
entitled  The  Light  of  Asia, —  Gautama  Buddha. 

During  the  past  few  years  western  nations  have  be- 
come profoundly  interested  in  the  religions  of  ancient 
India.  There  is  in  them  so  much  that  is  giantesque,  mys- 
tical and  majestic  that  they  fascinate  as  well  as  inform 
the  European  and  American  mind.  Especially  are  Chris- 
tian scholars  drawn  to  them,  because  of  the  parallelism 
they  furnish  to  some  of  the  great  truths  taught  in  the 
Bible,  and  which  seem  to  indicate  a  common  Aryan  origin, 
and  to  point  to  a  primeval  unity  of  faith.  An  additional 
value  is  also  being  attached  to  them,  as  they  afford  a  scale 
of  measurement  by  which  the  character  of  Jesus  Christ 

156 


THE    MANY    SAVIORS.  157 

and  the  dignity  of  His  mission  can  be  graduated.  You 
are  doubtless  aware  of  the  fact  that  modern  infidel  writers 
and  speakers  are  accustomed  to  group  in  one  class  the 
founders  of  all  religions.  They  represent  them  as  putting 
forth  the  same  claims,  as  doing  substantially  the  same 
work,  as  pursuing  practically  the  same  career,  and  as  be- 
ing entitled  to  about  the  same  respect.  In  their  artificial 
category  they  include  our  Savior.  Their  avowed  design  is 
to  create  the  impression  that,  ranking  with  a  definite  order 
of  men,  He  is  worthy  of  no  higher  homage  than  they. 
Taking,  for  instance,  the  life  of  Buddha,  they  paint  in 
vivid  colors  his  self-abnegation,  his  temptations,  his  ex- 
alted ethics,  the  sufferings  he  endured,  the  confidence  he 
inspired,  the  worship  he  received,  and  the  superstitious 
myths  to  which  he  gave  rise,  and  they  argue  from  analogy 
that  if  such  a  life  is  explicable  without  recourse  to  the 
supernatural,  that  of  Jesus  Christ  can  be  accounted  for 
without  its  aid.  To  not  a  few  this  reasoning  is  conclusive; 
and  if  the  followers  of  Christ  were  not  as  familiar  with  the 
literature  of  the  subject  as  their  adversaries,  not  to  say 
more  so,  they  themselves  might  begin  to  question  the 
soundness  of  their  faith.  But  possessing  this  literature, 
and  indeed  having  themselves  done  much  toward  its 
formation;  having  such  commentaries,  translations  and 
expositions  as  are  presented  in  the  wTorks  of  Burnouf, 
Koeppen,  Weber,  Bigandet,  St.  Hilaire,  Spence  Hardy, 
Dr.  Field,  Tiele,  Max  Milller  and  S.  Johnson,  not  over- 
looking the  smaller  and  more  modest  contributions  of 
Rhys  Davids  and  Edward  Clodd,  they  perceive  that  the 
claims  of  Jesus  cannot  be  disposed  of  in  this  summary 
manner.  "Than  Buddha,"  writes  St.  Hilaire,  "there  is, 
with  the  sole  exception  of  the  Christ,  no  purer  nor  more 
touching  figure  among  the  founders  of  religions.  His  life 
is  without  blemish;  he  is  the  finished  model  of  the  hero- 
ism, the  self-renunciation,  the  love,  the  sweetness  he  com- 


158  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

mands."  The  justice  of  this  high  tribute  Christians  are 
not  inclined  to  question;  but  having  before  them  the 
books  that  are  authoritative  on  the  subject,  they  insist 
upon  the  magnitude  of  the  "  exception,"  and  point  out, 
what  their  antagonists  fail  to  recognize,  that  the  contrasts 
between  the  purest  and  noblest  religious  reformer  of  an- 
tiquity and  Jesus  Christ  are  more  numerous  and  radical 
than  the  comparisons.  Any  conclusion,  therefore,  that 
does  not  take  into  consideration  this  fact  they  hold  to  be 
entirely  unreliable  and  unsatisfactory. 

The  poem  of  Arnold  has  suggested  to  me  a  special 
study  in  this  direction.  While  he  draws  no  inferences 
unfavorable  to  orthodox  conceptions  of  Christ,  nor  indeed 
alludes  to  Him  at  all,  but  writes  from  the  standpoint  of  a 
Buddhist  who  had  never  heard  that  name,  his  very  reti- 
cence, combined  with  the  spirit  of  the  poem  as  a  whole,  is 
liable  to  be  misconstrued  by  the  reader,  and  to  leave  the 
impression  that  its  author  regards  his  hero  as  hardly  infe- 
rior to  any  other  spiritual  leader  known  to  history.  I  do 
not  say  that  this  thought  was  in  his  mind  when  he  wrote, 
but  it  certainly  comes  to  us  as  we  read.  But  whether  the 
thought  ever  occurred  to  Mr.  Arnold  or  not,  it  may  tend 
to  counteract  whatever  subtle  influence  his  book  may  exert 
in  the  direction  of  infidelity,  to  place  Him  who  is  called 
"  The  Light  of  the  World "  by  the  side  of  him  who  is 
termed  "The  Light  of  Asia;"  and  unless  I  widely  err, 
such  apposition  will  assure  the  most  wavering  faith  that 
"a  greater  than  Buddha  is  here." 

The  Veda,  a  name  signifying  "  knowing,"  or  "  wisdom," 
the  sacred  song  of  the  Aryas  who  were  scattered  along 
the  banks  of  the  Indus,  is  a  collection  of  about  a  thousand 
hymns  ("Mantras"  or  "mind-born"),  composed  by  vari- 
ous Rishis,  and  dating  back  to  a  venerable  antiquity. 
Johnson,  in  his  work  on  Oriental  Religions  (Trlibner's 
edition),  to  which   I  am   indebted  for  various  facts  and 


THE   RIG -VEDA.  159 

for  several  quotations  which  appear  in  this  discourse,  re- 
gards this  sacred  book,  in  some  of  its  parts  at  least,  as 
three  thousand  years  old,  and  as  expressing  the  Hindu 
faith  of  "still  earlier  times."  Max  Mtiller,  whose  Sanskrit 
Literature  and  Chips  have  been  of  the  highest  value  to 
me  and  have  been  freely  used  in  this  study,  claims  that 
its  earlier  portions  cannot  be  assigned  "  a  date  more 
recent  than  1300  to  1500  before  our  era."  The  Veda  has 
been  called  "the  oldest  of  the  Bibles,"  and  it  has  been 
termed  "  historical "  on  account  of  the  realism  of  the  pic- 
ture it  gives  of  the  Aryas  after  their  descent  into  India. 
From  it,  therefore,  may  be  gained  a  very  clear  idea  of  the 
earliest  manifestation  of  the  religious  sentiment.  These 
primitive  worshipers  seem  to  have  recognized  life  as  a 
desirable  possession,  to  have  been  continually  influenced 
by  implicit  trust  in  the  Unseen,  and  by  childlike  awe  of  its 
inscrutable  power;  to  have  regarded  men  as  equal,  and 
between  whom  the  discrimination  of  caste  should  not  be 
tolerated;  to  have  never  countenanced  the  horrid  practice 
of  burning  wives  with  their  dead  husbands,  and  never  to 
have  built  temples,  venerated  idols,  honored  priesthoods, 
or  to  have  admitted  human  sacrifices  in  their  religious 
rites,  no  explicit  mention  being  made  of  such  bloody  offer- 
ings in  the  Rig -Veda.  They  adored  the  Light,  beholding 
in  its  manifold  manifestations,  from  the  spark  that  expires 
on  the  hearth  to  the  sun  that  flashes  in  the  heavens,  "an 
all-productive  cosmic  energy."  According  to  Muir's  trans- 
lation, the  worshiper  sang:  "Arise,  the  breath  of  our  life 
has  come!  The  darkness  has  fled.  Light  advances,  path- 
way of  the  sun!  It  is  Dawn  that  brings  consciousness  to 
men;  she  arouses  the  living,  each  to  his  own  work;  she 
quickens  the  dead.  Bright  leader  of  pure  voices,  she 
opens  all  doors;  makes  manifest  the  treasures;  receives 
the  praises  of  men.  Night  and  day  follow  each  other  and 
efface  each  other  as  they  traverse  the  heavens,  kindred  to 


160  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

one  another  forever.  The  path  of  the  sisters  is  unending, 
commanded  by  the  gods.  Of  one  purpose,  they  strive  not, 
they  rest  not;  of  one  will,  though  unlike.  They  who  first 
beheld  the  Dawn  have  passed  away.  Now  it  is  we  who 
behold  her;  and  they  who  shall  behold  her  in  after-times 
are  coming  also.  Mother  of  the  gods,  Eye  of  the  earth, 
Light  of  the  sacrificed,  for  us  also  shine!"  These  are 
beautiful  lines,  and  equally  beautiful  and  radiant  are  the 
deities  who  are  interwoven  with  the  mystic  conception 
which  underlies  them,— Ushas,  the  morning;  Sarama,  the 
dawn;  Savitri,  the  sun;  and  Agni,  the  fire,  who  is  spoken 
of  as  the  child  of  the  two  pieces  of  wood  rubbed  together, 
and  as  the  herdsman's  friend  and  protector.  And  yet 
M  tiller  finds  in  the  Veda  a  Monotheism  which  precedes  its 
Polytheism,  "  a  remembrance  of  One  God,  breaking  through 
the  mists  of  idolatrous  phraseology."  In  the  tenth  book 
we  have  the  declaration:  "  Wise  poets  make  the  Beautiful- 
winged,  though  He  is  one,  manifold  by  words;"  and  the 
desire  to  express  this  intuitive  sense  of  unity  is  brought 
out  in  such  passages  as  these:  "Among  you,  O  gods, 
there  is  none  that  is  small,  none  that  is  young;  you  are  all 
great  indeed;"  " Thou,  Agni,  art  Indra,  art  Vishnu,  art 
Brahmanaspati;"  "That  which  is  One  the  wise  call  many 
ways.  They  call  it  Indra,  Mitra,  Varuna,  Agni,  the  winged 
heavenly  Garutmat."  And  Johnson,  who  regards  the  Rig- 
Veda  as  "  the  potentiality  of  all  religions,"  as  "  the  pro- 
phetic star-dust  of  historic  systems,"  says  that  in  it  "  there 
are  hints  of  a  Father  of  all  the  gods,  Dyaushpitar;  of  a 
Lord  of  Creation,  Prajapati;  of  a  generator  and  lord  of 
all  Prayer,  Brahmanaspati."  "  Indra  contains  all  the 
gods,  as  the  felloe  of  a  wheel  surrounds  the  spokes."  The 
Pantheistic  idea  reveals  itself  evidently  in  these  ever- 
changing  forms  of  Deity,  though  it  is  modified  by  the 
personality  implied  in  the  hymns  and  prayers,  and  by  the 
views  which   are   incidentally  expressed  regarding   man's 


ORIGIN   OF   BRAHMANISM.  161 

immortality.  For,  as  Johnson  writes,  quoting  from  the 
Veda:  "Death  was  Yama's  kindly  messenger,  'to  bring 
them  (men)  to  the  homes  he  had  gone  before  to  prepare 
for  them,  and  which  could  not  be  taken  from  them.'  It 
was  far  in  Varuna's  world  of  perfect  and  undying  light,  in 
the  'third  heaven,'  in  the  very  'sanctuary  of  the  sky,  and 
of  the  great  waters,'  and  in  the  bosom  of  the  Highest 
Gods.  That  which  men  desire  is  the  attainment  of  good 
in  the  world,  where  they  may  behold  their  parents  and 
abide  free  from  infirmities,  '  where  the  One  Being  dwells 
beyond  the  stars.'  "  And  hence  the  impressive  Vedic  hymn 
still  in  use  at  Hindu  funerals,  given  by  Clodd: 

"  Forth  from  about  thee  thus  I  build  away  the  ground ; 
As  I  lay  down  this  clod  may  I  receive  no  harm; 
This  pillar  may  the  Fathers  here  maintain  for  thee ; 
May  Yama  there  provide  for  thee  a  dwelling." 

The  Rig -Veda  was  followed  by  three  other  books, 
known  as  the  Sama-Veda,  the  Yajur-Veda  and  the 
Atharva-Veda,  and  they  make  up  the  four  parts  of  the 
Hindu  Scriptures.  These  additional  books  show  consider- 
able, though  gradual,  departure  from  the  primitive  and 
simple  beliefs  of  the  first,  and  around  all  grew  up  a  body 
of  literature  devoted  to  exposition,  ritual  and  theology, 
which  pretty  thoroughly  obscured  them.  This  period  of 
development  may  very  properly  be  designated  the  era  of 
corruption,  and  it  is  identical  with  the  rise  and  progress 
of  Brahmanism.  It  is  impossible  to  fix  with  any  degree 
of  accuracy  the  date  of  this  movement,  but  for  our  pur- 
poses we  may  accept  the  opinion  of  various  scholars  that 
it  could  not  have  begun  much  later  than  the  eighth  cen- 
tury B.C.  Originally  the  title  "Brahman"  simply  meant 
a  singer  of  songs,  but  in  the  course  of  time  it  came  to 
denote  a  religious  officer,  a  member  of  the  sacerdotal 
caste.  I  suppose  the  transition  occurred  something  in 
this  way:  Memorizing  the  Vedic  hymns,  and  chanting 
11 


162  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

them  in  public  worship,  they  doubtless  acquired  influence, 
and  gradually  came  to  be  invested  with  a  distinctively 
religious  character.  Finding  themselves  honored  on  ac- 
count of  their  service,  a  little  ambition  mixed  with  cun- 
ning would  easily  accomplish  the  rest.  Flattering  by 
turns  the  ruler  and  the  ruled,  slowly  and  covertly  push- 
ing their  claims  to  consideration,  they  could  hardly  fail 
to  capture  the  dignity  which  assumption  and  arrogance 
aspired  to  possess.  With  their  establishment  in  power, 
strange  doctrines,  degrading  distinctions,  and  novel  rites 
made  their  appearance.  The  caste  system  was  inaugu- 
rated. No  longer  were  men  equal,  but  divided  by  sharp, 
impassable  barriers.  They  were  distinguished  into  Brah- 
mans,  or  the  learned;  Rajanyas,  or  the  princes  and  war- 
riors; Vaisyas,  or  the  commonalty,  and  the  Sudras,  or 
slaves,  this  latter  class  being  doomed  to  a  life  of  the 
deepest  misery.  Then  came  fully  developed  Pantheism 
and  clearly  defined  transmigration.  The  doctrine  entirely 
unknown  to  the  oldest  Vedic  books,  that  the  soul  of  the 
imperfect  must  be  born  again,  in  the  form  of  a  plant,  ani- 
mal, or  man,  until  the  highest  stages  of  self-renunciation 
and  freedom  from  everything  material  have  been  reached, 
and  then  sink  and  disappear  in  the  soul  of  the  universe, 
was  openly  advocated  and  implicitly  believed.  The  Brah- 
mans  also  taught  that  the  complete  extinction  of  the  sev- 
eral appetites,  and  the  abstraction  of  the  mind  from  exter- 
nal objects,  were  necessary  to  prepare  the  mind  for  this 
hoped-for  absorption  in  the  Universal  One.  Moreover, 
they  introduced  childish  mysticism,  narrow  formalism,  de- 
basing superstitions,  unnatural  and  arbitrary  requirements 
and  cruel  and  bloody  rites  and  sacrifices,  and  to  complete 
their  malignant  work  they  elaborated  a  metaphysical  the- 
ology, and  founded  a  hierarchy  whose  very  shadow  was  an 
unmitigated  curse  to  untold  millions.  Thus  they  corrupt- 
ed the  primitive  religion  of   India;  influenced  it  for  evil 


BIRTH    OF   BUDDHA.  163 

just  as  Romanism  in  a  subsequent  age  degraded  Christi- 
anity, misinterpreting  the  Scriptures,  perverting  its  doc- 
trines, and  ingrafting  on  its  simple  worship  the  most 
abominable  observances.  (  Vide  Tiele's  Ancient  Religions, 
Trubner's  edition.) 

It  was  when  this  apostasy  had  attained  its  greatest 
power,  when  the  old  childlike  gladness  of  the  people  had 
been  turned  into  sorrow,  when  existence  itself  had  come 
to  be  regarded  as  a  curse,  that  Siddartha,  of  the  family  of 
Gautama,  appeared  on  earth. 

"All  honored,  wisest,  best,  most  pitiful, 
The  teacher  of  Nirvana  and  the  law." 

Various  opinions  prevail  in  the  East  and  among  West- 
ern scholars  regarding  the  date  of  his  birth,  many  favor- 
ing 623  B.C.,  while  Koeppen,  and  with  him  others,  place 
his  death  from  480  B.C.  to  460,  and  his  birth  some  sixty  or 
eighty  years  previous.  The  Thibetans  differ  among  them- 
selves very  widely,  referring  his  death  to  various  periods, 
ranging  from  2422  B.C.  to  546.  The  Chinese  and  Japan- 
ese are  agreed  on  the  tenth  century,  while  the  Singhalese 
are  confident  that  he  appeared  in  the  sixth.  Mr.  Arnold 
adopts  620  B.C.  as  the  time  of  his  nativity,  which  event 
he  localizes  on  the  borders  of  Nepaul.  His  father  was 
King  Suddhodana,  and  his  mother  Queen  Maya,  and  they 
reigned  in  Kapilavastu.  Their  son,  Siddartha,  while  dis- 
tinguished preeminently  as  Buddha,  was  not  the  only 
being  to  whom  that  sacred  name  was  applied.  The  title 
itself,  derived  from  "budh,"  to  know,  a  term  in  Hindu 
philosophy  synonymous  with  "mind,"  signifies  "the  en- 
lightened one,"  and  if  tradition  may  be  believed  was 
borne  by  others  before  him  and  will  be  borne  by  others  in 
the  future.  Among  the  peoples  of  the  Himalayas  the 
theory  prevailed  that  for  millions  of  years  each  age  had 
received  a  Buddha  to  dissipate  its  darkness.  Thus  Kas- 
yapa  preceded  Gautama,  and  Maitreya  is  to  follow  him. 


164  ISMS   OLD    AND    NEW. 

"  Fahian  reports  three "  of  a  date  earlier  than  that  as- 
signed to  Mr.  Arnold's  hero,  and  "describes  a  tower  in 
Oude  where  the  relics  of  one  of  them  were  preserved," 
and  consequently  the  exalted  personage  whose  life  is  re- 
corded in  the  poem  was  but  one  of  a  distinguished  line 
of  sacred  men  who  have  appeared  to  reveal  the  way  of 
salvation  to  the  race. 

The  legends  represent  Gautona,  after  thousands  of 
preparatory  births,  deciding  to  leave  the  deities  with 
whom  he  was  associating,  and  to  be  born  once  more  into 
the  world. 

"  Yea!  "  spake  He;  "  now  I  go  to  help  the  World 
This  last  of  many  times;  for  birth  and  death 
End  hence  for  me  and  those  who  learn  my  law. 
I  will  go  down  among  the  Sakyas." 

He  chooses  his  parents,  a  certain  king  and  queen  of 
great  dignity  and  piety.  When  the  natal  hour  arrived 
strange  signs  announce  the  advent  of  a  Buddha. 

"  The  queen  shall  bear  a  boy,  a  holy  child, 
Of  wondrous  wisdom,  profiting  all  flesh, 
Who  shall  deliver  men  from  ignorance, 
Or  rule  the  world,  if  he  will  deign  to  rule." 

"A  gray-haired  saint,  Asita,"  hears  the  Devas  singing 
songs,  and,  Simeon-like,  speaks  of  the  infant  in  the  follow- 
ing mystic  and  prophetic  terms: 

"  O  babe!  I  worship!    Thou  art  He! 
I  see  the  rosy  light,  the  foot-sole  marks, 
The  soft,  curled  tendril  of  the  Swastika, 
The  sacred  primal  signs  thirty  and  two, 
The  eighty  lesser  tokens.    Thou  art  Buddh, 
And  thou  wilt  preach  the  law  and  save  all  flesh 
Who  learn  the  law,  though  I  shall  never  hear, 
Dying  too  soon,  who  lately  longed  to  die ; 
Howbeit  I  have  seen  thee." 

He  addresses  the  queen,  and  having  told  her  that  "she 


BUDDHA'S    YOUTH.  165 

has  grown  too  sacred  for  more  woe,"  after  seven  days  he 
promises  she  shall  "painless  attain  the  close  of  pain." 

"Which  fell;  for  on  the  seventh  evening 
Queen  Maya  smiling  slept  and  waked  no  more, 
Passing  content  to  Trayastrinshas-Heaven, 
Where  countless  Devas  worship  her  and  wait 
Attendant  on  that  radiant  motherhead." 

The  childhood  and  youth  of  Siddartha  were  distin- 
guished by  unusual  precociousness.  He  excels  his  teach- 
ers in  learning,  perplexes  them  by  his  wisdom,  and  yet 
preserves  his  modesty  of  manner.  His  chief  instructor 
was  overwhelmed  at  his  miraculous  knowledge. 

"  But  Viswamitra  heard  it  on  his  face, 
Prostrate  before  the  boy;  '  For  thou,'  he  cried, 
'  Art  teacher  of  thy  teachers, —  thou,  not  I, 
Art  Guru.     Oh,  I  worship  thee,  sweet  prince ! 
That  comest  to  my  school  only  to  show 
Thou  knowest  all  without  the  books,  and  know'st 
Fair  reverence  besides.' " 

He  likewise  excels  in  feats  of  noble  horsemanship, 
and  in  other  manly  arts,  and,  indeed,  proves  himself  to 
be  as  gallant  a  knight  as  he  was  a  consummate  scholar. 
But  his  heart,  though  strong,  was  not  insensible  to  com- 
passion, and  he  begins  his  works  of  mercy  by  rescuing 
a  wounded  swan  from  the  arrow  of  his  cousin  that  had 
"killed  the  god-like  speed  which  throbbed  in  this  white 
wing."  Up  to  this  time  the  poor  bird's  grief  was  the 
only  grief  that  he  had  seen;  but  visiting  with  his  father 
many  of  the  fairest  spots  in  the  country,  his  keen  eye  de- 
tected the  conflict  and  the  sorrow  that  was  half  concealed 
beneath  the  attractive  show. 

"The  Prince  Siddartha  sighed.     '  Is  this,'  he  said, 
'  That  happy  earth  they  brought  me  forth  to  see  ? 
How  salt  with  sweat  the  peasant's  bread !     how  hard 
The  oxen's  service !  in  the  brake  how  fierce 
The  war  of  weak  and  strong!  i'  th'  air  what  plots! 


166  ISMS   OLD    AND    NEW. 

No  refuge  e'en  in  water.    Go  aside 

A  space  and  let  me  muse  on  what  ye  show.' 

So  saying,  the  good  Lord  Buddha  seated  him 

Under  a  jambu  tree,  with  ankles  crossed, — 

As  holy  statues  sit, —  and  first  began 

To  meditate  this  deep  disease  of  life, 

What  its  far  source  and  whence  its  remedy." 

But  the  King  was  not  pleased  with  these  musings,  and 
was  not  at  all  satisfied  at  the  prospect  of  his  son  treading 
the  lowly  path  of  self-denying  pains;  and,  therefore,  hav- 
ing advised  with  his  ministers,  he  determined  to  marry 
him  to  some  worthy  maiden  as  speedily  as  possible.  His 
plans  in  this  particular  were  successful.  Siddartha  at  first 
sight  falls  in  love  with  the  beautiful  Yasodhara,  and  after- 
ward he  confesses  that  during  a  previous  life  on  the  earth 
he  had  met  with  and  loved  her,  and  that  this  affection 
would  be  eternal: 

"  Lo !  as  hid  seed  shoots  after  rainless  years, 
So  good  and  evil,  pains  and  pleasures,  hates 
And  loves,  and  all  dead  deeds,  come  forth  again 
Bearing  bright  leaves  or  dark,  sweet  fruit  or  sour 
Thus  I  was  he  and  she  Yasodhara ; 
And  while  the  wheel  of  birth  and  death  turns  round, 
That  which  hath  been  must  be  between  us  two." 

After  the  wedding  the  king  settles  his  son  in  a  mag- 
nificent palace,  in  the  description  of  wdiich  the  poetic 
genius  of  Mr.  Arnold  asserts  itself,  and  seeks  to  absorb 
his  mind  in  pleasure.  But  after  awhile  he  grows  weary 
of  dancing  girls,  and  marbles,  and  pearls,  and  desires  to 
see  the  world.  His  father  gives  his  permission,  but 
directs  that  the  city  and  country  be  radiantly  adorned, 
and  that  the  blind  and  maimed,  the  sick  and  feeble,  be 
kept  indoors.  But  his  precautions  were  all  in  vain,  for 
while  his  son  was  rejoicing  over  the  artificial  signs  of  the 
world's  happiness, 


THE  world's  grief.  167 

"  Slow  tottering  from  the  hovel  where  he  hid, 
Crept  forth  a  wretch  in  rags,  haggard  and  foul, 
An  old,  old  man,  whose  shrivelled  skin,  sun-tanned 
Clung  like  a  beast's  hide  to  his  fleshless  bones. 
Bent  was  his  back  with  load  of  many  days, 
His  eyepits  red  with  rust  of  ancient  tears, 
His  dim  orbs  blear  with  rheum,  his  toothless  jaws 
Wagging  with  palsy  and  the  fright  to  see 
So  many  and  such  joy.     One  skinny  hand 
Clutched  a  worn  staff  to  prop  his  quavering  limbs, 
And  one  was  pressed  upon  the  ridge  of  ribs 
Whence  came  in  gasps  the  heavy,  painful  breath. 
'Alms!'  moaned  he,  'give,  good  people!  for  I  die 
To-morrow  or  the  next  day.'  " 

This  miserable  creature  excited  Siddartha's  pity,  and  led 
him  to  make  inquiries,  the  results  of  which  were  not  con- 
ducive to  his  peace  of  mind.  He  returns  to  his  palace, 
but  he  is  restless.  Dreams  haunt  him,  and  the  impression 
deepens  that  he  is  destined  to  aid  the  suffering  race.  He 
thinks  continually  "how  love  might  save  its  sweetness 
from  the  slayer,  Time."  He  goes  forth  again  and  beholds 
the  terrible  evils  of  society,  the  sufferings  of  the  world, 
"  the  vastness  of  the  agony  of  earth  and  the  vainness  of 
its  joys."  He  is  appalled,  affrighted.  To  him  the  gods 
seem  weak,  as  they  do  not  save  when  sad  lips  cry: 

"  Oh !  suffering  world, 
Oh !  known  and  unknown  of  my  common  flesh, 
Caught  in  this  common  net  of  death  and  woe, 
And  life  which  binds  to  both!  I  see,  I  feel 
The  vastness  of  the  agony  of  earth, 
The  vainness  of  its  joys,  the  mockery 
Of  all  its  best,  the  anguish  of  its  worst ; 
Since  pleasures  end  in  pain,  and  youth  in  age, 
And  love  in  loss,  and  life  in  hateful  death, 
And  death  in  unknown  lives,  which  will  but  yoke 
Men  to  their  wheel  again  to  whirl  the  round 
Of  false  delights  and  woes  that  are  not  false. 
*  *  *  The  veil  is  rent 


168  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

Which  blinded  me !     I  am  as  all  these  men 
"Who  cry  upon  their  gods  and  are  not  heard 
Or  are  not  heeded  —  yet  there  must  be  aid ! 
For  them  and  me  and  all  there  must  be  help ! 
*  *  *  I  would  not  let  one  cry 

When  I  could  save!     How  can  it  be  that  Brahm 
Would  make  a  world  and  keep  it  miserable, 
Since,  if  all  powerful,  he  leaves  it  so, 
He  is  not  good,  and  if  not  powerful, 
He  is  not  God  ?" 

Henceforward  his  palace  is  a  prison  to  him,  its  pleas- 
ures weary  him,  and  at  last  he  determines  to  abandon  all 
and  seek  the  way  by  which  he  can  save  mankind. 

"  Oh,  summoning  stars.  I  come !     Oh,  mournful  earth ! 
For  thee  and  thine  I  lay  aside  my  youth, 
My  throne,  my  joys,  ni}r  golden  days,  my  nights, 
My  happy  palace  —  and  thine  arms,  sweet  Queen! 
Harder  to  put  aside  than  all  the  rest ! 
Yet  thee,  too,  I  shall  save,  saving  this  earth ; 
And  that  which  stirs  within  thy  tender  womb, 
My  child,  the  hidden  blossom  of  our  loves, 
Whom  if  I  wait  to  bless  my  mind  will  fail. 
Wife!  child!  father!  and  people!  ye  must  share 
A  little  while  the  anguish  of  this  hour 
That  light  may  break  and  all  flesh  learn  the  Law." 

An  affecting  description  is  given  of  his  parting  from 
his  beloved  Yasodhara,  of  the  disgust  which  he  experi- 
ences at  the  sight  of  the  sleeping  dancing  girls,  and  of 
his  ride  into  the  night.  The  poet  represents  him  as  say- 
ing to  his  horse: 

"  Be  still, 

White  Kantaka!  be  still,  and  bear  me  now 

The  farthest  journey  ever  rider  rode; 

For  this  night  take  I  horse  to  find  the  truth, 

And  where  my  quest  will  end  yet  know  I  not, 

Save  that  it  shall  not  end  until  I  find." 

The  yellow  robe  and  the  mendicant's  lot  are  chosen, 
and  "couched  on  the  grass,  homeless,  alone,"  "subduing 


THE    BODHI    TREE.  169 

that  fair  body  born  for  bliss,"  he  meditated  long  and 
watched.  He  became  an  itinerant,  lived  on  charity,  and 
mortified  his  flesh  "until  sin's  dross  was  purged  away," 
and  "  he  was  winged  for  glorious  spheres  and  splendor 
past  all  thought."  In  the  course  of  his  wanderings  he 
teaches  a  poor  woman,  who  mourns  for  her  child,  to  ac- 
cept death  as  the  inevitable. 

" '  My  sister !  thou  hast  found,'  the  master  said, 
'  Searching  for  what  none  finds, —  that  bitter  balm 
I  had  to  give  thee.     He  thou  lovedst  slept 
Dead  on  thy  bosom  yesterday ;  to-day 
Thou  know'st  the  whole  wide  world  weeps  with  thy  woe : 
The  grief  which  all  hearts  share  grows  less  for  one. 
Lo!  I  would  pour  my  blood  if  it  could  stay 
Thy  tears  and  win  the  secret  of  that  curse 
Which  makes  sweet  love  our  anguish,  and  which  drives 
O'er  flowers  and  pastures  to  the  sacrifice, — 
As  these  dumb  beasts  are  driven, —  men  their  lords. 
I  seek  that  secret:  bury  thou  thy  child! '  " 

He  teaches  a  king  the  sin  and  folly  of  animal  sacrifices, 
and  impressively  affirms  that  all  life  is  sacred;  and  to  a 
poor  Sudra  lad,  the  victim  of  caste,  he  says: 

"  '  There  is  no  caste  in  blood, 
Which  runneth  of  one  hue,  nor  caste  in  tears, 
Which  trickle  salt  with  all;  neither  comes  man 
To  birth  with  tilka-mark  stamped  on  the  brow, 
Nor  sacred  thread  on  neck.    Who  doth  right  deeds 
Is  twice-born,  and  who  doeth  ill  deeds  vile.'  " 

But  the  hour  comes  when,  under  the  Bodh  tree,  Sid- 
dartha  is  assailed  by  manifold  temptations.  He  struggles 
there  with  the  varying  forms  of  evil  until,  through  the 
thick  air  of  the  conflict,  he  at  last  discerns  the  dawning 
light.  The  mystery  of  life  is  explained,  the  means  of 
deliverance  are  revealed,  and  the  perfect  knowledge  by 
which  he  hopes  to  save  others  as  well  as  himself  is  finally 
and  fully  gained.     The  poem  picturesquely  traces  his  sub- 


170  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

sequent  career,  his  visit  to  his  childhood's  home,  the  ven- 
eration he  inspired  in  his  father,  the  doctrines  he  taught, 
the   countries    he   subdued,  the   peaceful   death   he    died, 

passing 

"  Unto  Nirvana,  where  the  Silence  lives." 

The  account  thus  given  by  Mr.  Arnold  is,  in  all  of  its 
essential  features,  verified  by  recognized  authorities,  and 
may  be  accepted  as  substantially  correct.  From  it,  as  well 
as  from  other  sources  of  information,  we  gather  that  Sid- 
dartha,  after  a  youth  spent  in  luxury,  became  a  self-deny- 
ing, holy  man, —  one  of  the  few  historic  characters  whose 
purity  was  transcendent.  He  evidently  struggled  hard  to 
subdue  sin  in  his  members,  and  gloriously  triumphed.  Let 
us  not  detract  from  this  ancient  Indian  sage  in  the  least, 
but  gratefully  acknowledge  his  resplendent  moral  beauty. 
He  was  also  a  reformer, —  the  Luther  of  his  times, —  the 
stern  enemy  of  caste  and  of  animal  sacrifice.  Around  all 
life  he  shed  a  hallowed  influence,  the  priestly  orders  he 
subverted,  and  magnified  the  importance  of  the  individ- 
ual. He  gave  a  system  of  ethics  to  his  country  that  has 
only  been  surpassed  by  the  sublimer  code  of  the  Naza- 
rene.  Burnouf  reproduces  ten  commandments  of  which 
Siddartha  is  reputed  the  author,  which  forbid  killing, 
stealing,  unchastity,  falsehood,  intemperance,  irregularity 
in  eating,  attendance  on  exhibitions  of  dancing  and  dra- 
matic representations,  perfumes,  sleeping  in  a  large  or 
high  bed,  and  the  acceptance  of  gold  or  silver.  While 
some  of  these  precepts  are  exceedingly  curious,  most  of 
them  are  wholesome  and  of  universal  application.  They 
reveal  deep  spiritual  insight  into  the  necessities  of  the 
race,  and  justify  us  in  assigning  to  their  author  a  very 
high  rank  among  the  moral  teachers  of  mankind. 

The  doctrines  of  Buddha  cannot  as  easily  be  determined 
as  his  ethics.  Mr.  Arnold,  in  various  places  in  his  poem, 
brings  to  view  his  own  conceptions  of  what  the  illustrious 


THE    DOCTRINE   OF   BUDDHA.  171 

reformer  taught.  According  to  his  interpretation  the 
misery  of  existence  was  the  starting  point  of  Siddartha's 
teachings.  Doomed  to  be  until  sin  should  be  quite  purged 
away,  and  passing  from  one  form  of  life  to  another,  and 
through  various  worlds,  the  people  for  ages  had  thirsted  to 
be  delivered  from  this  bondage,  and  to  attain  the  blessedness 
of  extinction.  The  doctrine  of  transmigration  Buddha  ad- 
vocated, though,  according  to  Arnold,  it  is  very  question- 
able whether  he  proclaimed  "nothingness  as  the  issue  and 
crown  of  being."  The  word  "Nirvana"  represents  this 
final  state,  whatever  it  may  be,  and  the  passages  in  the 
poem  which  refer  to  it  breathe  a  Pantheistic  spirit  and 
leave  the  impression  on  the  reader  that  absorption  in  the 
Universal  Soul  was  the  hope  set  by  Buddha  before  his  fol- 
lowers.    The  poet  puts  on  the  lips  of  his  hero  the  words: 

"The  aching  craze  to  live  ends,  and  life  glides  — 
Lifeless  —  to  nameless  quiet,  nameless  joy; 
Blessed  Nirvana, —  sinless,  stirless  rest, — 
That  change  which  never  changes." 

In  another  place  he  adds: 

"  Seeking  nothing,  he  gains  all ; 

Foregoing  self,  the  universe  grows  '  I ' ': 
If  any  teach  Nirvana  is  to  cease, 
Say  unto  such  they  lie." 

Here  we  have  a  refined  Pantheism,  and  the  closing  lines 
of  the  poem  confirm  this  view: 

"  The  clew  is  on  the  lotus !  —  Rise,  great  sun ! 
And  lift  my  leaf  and  mix  me  with  the  wave. 
Om,  mani  padme,  om,  the  sunrise  comes! 
The  dewdrop  slips  into  the  shining  sea!  " 

Mr.  T.  W.  Rhys  Davids  does  not  believe  that  the  hope 
preached  by  Buddha  was  peacefulness  in  the  eternal  deeps 
of  annihilation.  He  says:  "Nirvana  is  the  extinction  of 
that  sinful,  grasping  condition  of  mind  and  heart  which 
would  otherwise  be  the  cause  of  renewed  individual  exist- 


172  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

ence.  That  extinction  is  to  be  brought  about  by,  and 
runs  parallel  with,  the  growth  of  the  opposite  condition  of 
mind  and  heart,  and  is  complete  when  that  opposite  condi- 
tion is  reached.  Nirvana  is  therefore  the  same  thing  as  a 
sinless,  calm  state  of  mind,  and  if  translated  at  all,  may 
best  perhaps  be  rendered  as  'holiness,' — holiness,  that  is, 
in  the  Buddhist  sense,  perfect  peace,  goodness  and  wis- 
dom." Bunsen  advocates  a  similar  explanation,  and 
Johnson  says:  "Etymology  at  least  fails  to  bear  out  the 
confident  assurances  of  Burnouf,  Koeppen,  Weber  and 
others,  that  'its  extinction  of  the  lamp  of  existence' 
means  absolute  annihilation.  Nirvana  is  from  iiir,  separa- 
tion from,  and  vd,  wind.  The  simplest  and  most  natural 
meaning  seems  to  be,  not  'blown  out,'  but  'no  more 
waving,'  as  from  the  presence  of  wind,  no  more  restless- 
ness and  change.  It  is  familiar  to  Brahmanical  literature 
as  synonymous  with  words  signifying  release,  emancipa- 
tion, the  highest  good."  Colebrook  defines  it  as  "pro- 
found calm."  And  this  rendering  seems  to  be  sustained 
by  The  Dhammapada,  or  "Path  of  Virtue,"  which  is  sup- 
posed to  contain  exact  accounts  of  what  Buddha  really 
taught.  According  to  this  record  Nirvana  is  "the  uncre- 
ated, the  ineffable,  the  immortal";  "the  place  of  repose 
and  bliss,  where  embodiments  cease";  "the  other  shore, 
beyond  the  power  of  death,  where  one  is  thoughtful, 
guileless,  free  from  doubt  and  from  all  desires,  and  con- 
tent." "  The  true  sage  is  he  who  knows  his  former 
abodes,  who  sees  heaven  and  hell,  who  lias  reached  the 
end  of  births,  and  is  perfect  in  wisdom."  "Tear  away 
attachments  (self-love)  from  thy  being,  as  an  autumn  lotus 
with  thy  hand,  and  make  thy  way  open  to  Nirvana,  to 
rest."  (  Vide  Johnson.)  In  view  of  these  interpretations, 
we  may  credit  the  Reformer  who  is  called  by  Arnold  "The 
Light  of  Asia"  with  teaching  his  disciples  to  look  for 
something  more  than  nonentity  as  the  end   of  all  their 


NIRVANA.  173 

strivings,  though  it  may  not  be  transparently  clear  whether 
he  grasped  the  sublime  conception  of  personal  immortal- 
ity, or  discerned  merely  its  vague,  shadowy  semblance. 
Probably  his  doctrine  was  but  little  different  from  that  of 
the  Bhagavadgita,  and  there  we  find  unmistakable  traces 
of  Pantheism,  as  in  the  following  passage  from  Thomson's 
translation:  "As  the  all-penetrating  ether,  from  the  mi- 
nuteness of  its  parts,  passeth  everywhere  unaffected,  so 
this  spirit  in  the  body.  As  one  sun  illumines  the  whole 
world,  so  does  the  one  spirit  illumine  the  whole  of  matter. 
O  Bharata!  They  who  thus  perceive  the  body  and  the 
soul  as  distinct,  and  that  there  is  release,  go  to  the 
Supreme."  Most  likely  Gautama's  sentiments  were  simi- 
lar to  these,  and,  as  Arnold  represents  him,  he  may  have 
taught  concerning  the  self-conquering  man: 

"  Never  shall  yearnings  torture  him,  nor  sins 

Stain  hini,  nor  ache  of  earthly  joys  and  woes 
Invade  his  safe  eternal  peace;  nor  deaths 
And  lives  recur.     He  goes 

"Unto  Nirvana.     He  is  one  with  Life, 

Yet  lives  not.     He  is  blest,  ceasing  to  be. 
Chi,  mani  padme,  om  !  the  Dewdrop  slips 
Into  the  shining  sea!  " 

The  reader  of  the  "Light  of  Asia"  will  be  struck  by 
the  almost  total  absence  of  reference  to  a  Supreme  Being. 
This  is  one  of  the  distinguishing  features  of  Buddhism. 
Its  author  added  nothing  to  the  world's  knowledge  of 
God.  On  the  supposition  that  this  is  explained  by  the 
adoption  of  the  Vedas  by  Siddartha,  and  that  he  believed 
in  the  Deity  and  divinities  they  praise,  he  is  relieved  from 
the  charge  of  Atheism,  but  it  still  remains  strange  that  he 
did  not  supplement  their  revelations  with  some  additional 
light.  Professor  Tyndall  is  positive  that  he  "divorced 
ethics  not  only  from  Brahma  and  the  Brahminic  trinity, 
but  even  from  the  existence  of  God."     1  have  also  seen  it 


174  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

stated  that  Dr.  Judson  declared  that  "there  was  nothing 
in  his  system  to  redeem  it  from  the  charge  of  absolute 
Atheism."  But  to  these  representations  Dr.  Johnson 
answers:  "It  is  certain,  whatever  may  be  true  of  meta- 
physical statements,  that  neither  Nihilism  nor  Atheism 
characterizes  the  mass  of  Buddhist  literature,  the  rites  of 
the  Buddhist  church,  or,  as  a  whole,  the  sects  into  which 
it  has  become  divided.  It  would,  indeed,  be  fatal  to  our 
hopes  for  human  nature  if  we  could  be  forced  to  believe 
that  four  hundred  millions  of  at  least  partially  civilized 
people  have  made  a  religion  out  of  the  love  of  nonentity, 
or,  indeed,  out  of  mere  negation  in  any  form.  The  appar- 
ent Atheism  of  the  Buddhist  is,  in  substance,  opposition 
to  the  idea  of  an  external  God,  limited  and  individual, 
acting  in  imperfect  human  ways."  And  in  support  of  this 
view  he  informs  the  reader  that  "The  temples  of  Nepal 
afford  proof  that  the  belief  in  a  supreme,  all-seeing  Bud- 
dha, represented  by  two  Eyes  as  symbols  of  intelligence, 
was  current  in  these  regions  at  least  as  early  as  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Christian  era.  The  Nepalese  say  that  'Swa- 
yambhu,  the  self -existent,  called  Adibuddha,  was  when 
nothing  else  was.  He  wished  to  become  many,  and  pro- 
duced the  Buddhas  through  union  with  his  desire.  Adi- 
buddha was  never  seen.  He  is  pure  light.' "  From  these 
statements  I  think  we  may  with  safety  conclude  that  at 
least  Siddartha  recognized  a  Supreme  Impersonal  exist- 
ence, into  whom  all  purified  souls  should  at  last  be  ab- 
sorbed, and  that  the  great  object  of  earthly  life  should  be 
such  an  abnegation  of  self  as  to  prepare  the  soul  for  its 
return  to  its  everlasting  home  in  God. 

The  path  to  be  pursued  by  which  tais  end  is  to  be  at- 
tained is  in  essentiality  one  of  works.  Hence  our  poet 
sings : 

"Evil  swells  the  debts  to  pay, 
Good  delivers  and  acquits; 


THE   GOSPEL   OF    BUDDHA.  175 

Shim  evil,  follow  good ;  hold  sway 
Over  thyself.    This  is  the  Way." 

But  Siddartha  is  no  Redeemer,  no  sacrificial  priest,  no 
Savior  in  the  highest  sense,  doing  for  humanity  what  it 
never  could  accomplish  for  itself.  He  is  only  a  great 
teacher,  a  wonderful  seer  who  discerns  the  origin  of  evil 
and  who  points  out  how  the  race  may  effect  its  own  de- 
liverance. In  reality  he  does  nothing  to  help  the  indi- 
vidual. He  makes  more  vivid  the  mighty  barriers  between 
man  and  unbroken  peace,  and  then  leaves  to  him  the 
inexecutable  task  of  removing  them: 

"  Nought  from  the  helpless  gods  by  gift  and  hymn, 

Nor  bribe  with  blood,  nor  feed  with  fruits  and  cakes; 
Within  yourselves  deliverance  must  be  sought- 
Each  man  his  prison  makes." 

Such  is  the  Gospel  that  he  teaches.  He  tells  the 
world  that  there  are  paths,  steps,  commandments,  all  of 
which  are  beautiful  in  theory  and  in  practice,  and  he  com- 
mends them  to  the  race.  But  he  might  as  well  urge  an 
individual  to  lift  himself  from  the  ground  in  his  own 
arms,  or  to  walk  while  he  stands  still,  or  to  sleep  while  he 
wakes,  for  not  more  impossible  are  these  physical  perform- 
ances than  are  the  various  duties  he  enjoins.  Who 
among  the  living  can  ever  hope  to  effect  escape  from  the 
evils  of  his  lot  by  the  method  set  forth  in  this  exquisite 
recipe  for  their  extinction  ? 

"  The  third  is  Sorrow's  Ceasing.    This  is  peace 
To  conquer  love  of  self  and  lust  of  life, 
To  tear  deep-rooted  passion  from  the  breast, 
To  still  the  inward  strife ; 

For  love  to  clasp  Eternal  Beauty  close ; 

For  glory  to  be  Lord  of  self,  for  pleasure 
To  live  beyond  the  gods ;  for  countless  wealth 

To  lay  up  lasting  treasure 


176  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

Of  perfect  service  rendered,  duties  done 

In  charity,  soft  speech,  and  stainless  days : 

These  riches  shall  not  fade  away  in  life 
Nor  any  death  dispraise. 

Then  Sorrow  ends,  for  Life  and  Death  have  ceased ; 

How  should  lamps  flicker  when  their  oil  is  spent? 
The  old  sad  count  is  clear,  the  new  is  clean; 

Thus  hath  a  man  content." 

We  can  have.no  possible  objection  to  these  recommen- 
dations; but  if  eternal  felicity  rests  on  their  being  met 
and  fulfilled  in  our  own  strength, unhappy  are  we!  What 
humanity  needs  is  positive  Divine  help  to  right  doing,  not 
a  mere  eloquent  elaboration  of  what  it  is  to  do  right. 
This  is  the  special  weakness  of  the  whole  system,  and  ex- 
plains why  with  a  magnificent  code  of  ethics  the  millions 
of  its  adherents  are  cursed  with  ignorance,  superstition, 
and  moral  defilement.  They  have  fallen  back  from  the 
herculean  and  hopeless  endeavor  to  perfect  their  own 
righteousness;  and  in  sullen  despondency  they  sink 
deeper  and  deeper  into  the  mire.  No  help  for  them  in 
Buddha,  only  pitiable  revelation  of  their  bottomless  mis- 
ery. Assistance  must  come  to  them  from  some  other 
quarter,  if  at  all;  for  as  to  their  Siddartha  he  is  only  a 
great  talker,  and  not  a  great  doer,  and  what  they  need 
preeminently  is  work  done  for  them,  not  words  spoken  to 
them.  Nevertheless,  while  his  system  is  fairly  open  to 
this  criticism,  and  short  as  it  comes  of  the  truth,  yet, 
considering  the  ag'e  in  which  the  prophet  lived,  it  reflects 
high  honor  on  his  name;  and  if  we  will  but  realize  how 
exalted  were  the  ethics  that  he  taught,  how  singularly 
unselfish  was  his  spirit,  and  how  fully  he  kept  before  the 
people  their  need  of  a  savior, —  although  the  conception 
he  formed  of  a  savior's  mission  was  meager  and  er- 
roneous in  the  extreme  —  we  may  with  confidence  ascribe 
to  him  the  additional  honor  of  being  an  adumbration  of 


CHKIST   AND   SIDDARTHA.  177 

Him  who,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  "  was  born  of  a  woman, 
born  under  the  law  that  he  might  redeem  them  which  were 
under  the  law,  that  they  might  receive  the  adoption  of 
sons." 

Behold!  a  greater  than  Buddha  is  here!  If  we  compare 
Jesus  or  rather  contrast  Him  with  the  founder  of  Buddhism, 
His  infinite  superiority  will  still  appear  —  a  superiority  as 
marked  as  that  of  solar  light  over  the  soft-shining  stars,  the 
phosphorescence  of  the  sea,  and  the  flame-fires  that  blaze 
from  earth's  vestal  altars  —  a  superiority  that  reaches  up 
to  Divinity,  and  requires  Divinity  to  explain.  Unlike 
Siddartha,  Jesus  was  born  in  poverty,  enjoyed  few,  if  any, 
advantages  of  education,  and  was  from  the  first  an  outcast 
in  the  world.  His  youth  tasted  not  the  pleasures  that 
affluence  and  rank  procure,  nor  His  manhood  the  sweet 
flavor  of  adulation  lavished  so  freely  on  aged  Siddar- 
tha. Like  the  Hindu,  He  engaged  in  the  sublimest  of  en- 
deavors—  to  save  mankind  —  but  how  unlike  his  method. 
The  sage  retires  to  the  wilderness  to  gather  moral  strength 
for  his  enterprise;  to  save  himself  before  he  tries  to  save 
others.  Jesus  from  the  first  is  perfect,  sinless,  and  pursues 
His  mission  among  crowds  of  men,  mingling  with  them 
freely,  and  too  pure  to  fear  taint  from  any.  Buddha 
wears  a  peculiar  garb,  ostentatiously  is  indigent,  and  cru- 
elly ascetic.  Jesus  distinguishes  Himself  by  no  profes- 
sional badge;  does  not  court  poverty,  but  endures  it;  and 
is  genial,  social  and  companionable.  They  are  both  sym- 
pathetic, self-sacrificing;  but  the  one  is  appreciated  in  his 
lifetime,  revered  by  princes,  respected  even  by  the  priests 
against  whose  ritual  he  preached,  and  dies  at  an  advanced 
age,  venerated  by  Asia;  while  the  other  is  misjudged,  mis- 
understood by  His  contemporaries,  is  rejected  by  the  sacer- 
dotal orders,  betrayed  by  His  disciples,  and  at  last  is 
crucified  as  a  malefactor.  What  an  infinite  difference! 
What  a  chasm  to  be  bridged!  Surely  no  highly-painted 
12 


178  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

theory  of  naturalism  is  equal  to  such  a  task!  This  Jesus, 
this  peasant's  child,  this  untaught,  untutored  man,  this 
mechanic,  who  mingled  freely  with  the  humblest  and  the 
vilest,  this  citizen  of  a  despised  nation,  born  in  an  obscure 
town  and  reared  in  a  wretched  village,  insulted,  rejected, 
murdered,  has  become,  in  fact,  what  was  foreseen  and  pre- 
dicted He  would  be  — the  "Light  of  the  World."  The 
light  not  of  one  country,  but  of  all;  not  of  one  race,  but 
of  every  race.  Even  in  that  India  where  Buddha  taught, 
converts  throng  to  hear  His  word;  and,  speaking  for  the 
Brahmo  Somaj,  its  leader,  Chunder  Sen,  declares  that  the 
Star  of  Bethlehem  is  rising  on  the  night  of  Asia;  that 
Christ  it  is  who  holds  India  loyal  to  the  British  throne; 
that  Christ,  not  bayonets,  reconciles  the  people  to  English 
rule,  and  that  Christ,  not  earthly  kings,  shall  dominate  the 
thought  and  life  of  all  the  millions  who  have  for  ages 
listened  spellbound  to  Gautama's  wisdom.  How  shall  we 
explain  this  mystery  ?  If  it  is  even  difficult  to  account  for 
Buddha's  triumph  by  Buddha's  life,  though  its  circum- 
stances were  not  unfavorable  to  success,  what  shall  we  say 
of  Christ  ?  He,  against  whom  surroundings,  condition, 
rank,  yea,  everything  of  an  external  nature,  militated, 
achieves  a  world-wide  victory,  and  the  mystery  thickens 
as  the  issue  becomes  more  assured.  What  shall  we  say  ? 
How  reach  the  truth  ?  Outward  circumstances  of  His  life 
fail  to  supply  the  answer,  and  we  are  shut  up  to  the  inev- 
itable, that  in  Jesus  we  meet  an  element  higher  than  the 
human  —  the  divine;  and  that,  if  the  career  of  Buddha  is 
a  wonder,  that  of  Jesus  is  a  miracle;  yea,  the  unapproach- 
able and  stupendous  miracle  of  the  universe. 

This  conclusion  increases  in  force  when  we  contrast  the 
teachings  of  these  spiritual  heroes.  The  puerilities  that 
mingle  with  the  sublime  ethics  of  Siddartha  find  no  place 
in  the  code  of  Jesus.  He  wastes  no  breath  on  the  height 
or  length  of  one's  bed,  and  decries  neither  innocent  amuse- 


THE  TEACHINGS   OF   JESUS.  179 

ments,  nor  the  art  of  music.  He  seeks  not  to  rob  life  of 
its  joys,  its  simple  pleasures,  or  its  sunny  gladsomeness. 
Unlike  Siddartha,  He  represents  existence  as  a  blessing,  a 
heavenly  boon,  to  be  prized  and  cherished,  and  to  be 
returned  unstained  to  the  keeping  of  its  Author.  Unlike 
Siddartha,  He  lives  with  God,  communes  with  Him,  walks 
with  Him,  and  ever  seems  to  be  looking  beyond  the  infinite 
azure  into  the  smiling  of  His  face.  Of  this  Almighty  Be- 
ing He  freely  talks  to  His  disciples;  calls  Him  father,  His 
father,  theirs.  The  sage  of  India  brings  with  him  no 
word  from  the  eternities  concerning  Him  "  in  whom  we 
live,  move,  and  have  our  being."  Jesus  reveals  His  very 
nature,  reveals  His  innermost  heart,  and  shows  that  He 
who  is  Spirit  incomprehensible  is  comprehensible  love. 
He  announces  as  the  most  glorious  heritage  of  humanity 
the  privilege  of  access  to  His  presence,  the  possibility  of 
commerce  with  His  spirit,  and  of  rest  in  His  favor.  The 
world  was  no  longer  lonely  after  Christ  had  spoken.  God 
became  a  living  presence  everywhere.  His  smile  rested 
on  all  His  works,  and  even  the  shadow  of  the  valley  of 
death  became  transformed  into  radiance  through  the  sun- 
shine of  His  countenance.  Blessed  forever  be  His  name 
who  lifted  the  veil  of  mystery  from  the  universe,  and  ena- 
bled saddened  eyes  to  see  a  face  beyond  —  the  Father's 
face  —  beaming  with  tenderness  on  His  creatures! 

Not  as  Siddartha  did  Jesus  speak  of  the  soul's  eternal 
destiny.  No  Pantheistic  subtlety,  no  consciousless  im- 
mortality, no  "  dewdrop  slipping  into  the  shining  sea," 
was  the  burden  of  His  high  discourse.  "  He  spake  as 
never  man  spake."  To  all  the  teeming  millions  of  this 
earth,  to  every  human  unit  —  however  insignificant  and 
debased  —  he  proclaimed  an  existence  endless.  The  flight 
of  untold  ages,  all  the  vast  cycles  of  a  future,  with  which 
the  unmeasured  and  immeasurable  past  is  but  as  a  watch 
in  the  fleeting  night,  and  all  the  convulsions,  upheavals, 


180  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

destructions,  and  re-creations  of  this  complicated  universe 
shall  set  no  limit,  find  no  grave,  and  shall  bring  neither 
decrepitude  nor  death  to  any  human  soul.  Immortality, 
personal  immortality,  the  reality  of  being,  not  its  dream, 
is  the  glad  message  that  fell  from  His  sacred  lips  on  the 
ear  of  a  breathless  world.  But  sad  would  have  been  His 
words,  though  radiant  with  the  hope  of  life,  had  they 
been  unaccompanied  by  that  grace  which  "opens  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  to  all  believers."  How  should  the 
sin-stained  and  polluted  hope  to  enter  into  the  invisible, 
on  whose  portals,  thrones,  and  crowns  is  written  one 
appalling  word,  whiter  than  light  and  fiercer  than 
flame  —  Purity;  "Without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the 
Lord."  Drown,  drown,  in  a  wail  of  lamentation  the  voice 
of  immortality;  let  not  its  whisper  excite  our  fears,  let  not 
its  breath  smite  the  little  joy  we  have  on  earth.  What 
has  a  sinner  to  do  with  immortality  ?  Who  craves  to  live 
eternally,  carrying  with  him  the  plague  of  guilt  to  tor- 
ment him  evermore  ?  Better  Nirvana,  better  Nihilism, 
better  anything  than  such  an  immortality  as  this.  Cruel 
would  it  have  been  in  the  Master  to  promise  this,  more 
fitting  to  be  spoken  by  a  devil  than  a  Christ,  and  deserv- 
ing more  the  anathema  of  a  world  than  its  benediction. 
But  His  gracious  lips  were  not  closed  forever  when  He 
pronounced  the  word  "immortal."  They  parted  once 
more,  and  proclaimed  "salvation."  Salvation!  Not  the 
salvation  Siddartha  taught  —  salvation  painfully  wrought 
out  through  many  births,  in  many  worlds,  by  each  sin- 
afflicted  soul.  No!  the  salvation  Jesus  preached,  Jesus 
won,  and  freely  gives  to  all  who  will  accept  the  gift. 
This  was  the  gospel  that  He  spoke;  this  was  the  gospel 
that  thrilled  the  world  with  joy;  and  this  is  still  the  gos- 
pel that  conquers  human  hearts,  and  sweeps  onward  to 
crown  the  race  with  glory. 

What  think  you  of  such  a  gospel  ?     Do  you  say  that 


IS   CHRIST   DIVINE?  181 

its  magnificence  explains  the  mystery  of  Jesus?  Granted; 
but  what  explains  the  magnificence  of  the  gospel  ?  Here 
is  sublimity  your  Siddarthas  never  dreamed  of,  here  are 
moral  magnitudes  your  Buddhas  never  measured.  Yet 
are  these  Hindu  teachers  so  great  that  under  their  names 
we  write  "  inspired,"  and  exalt  them  far  above  all  others 
of  their  race  ?  What  then  shall  we,  what  must  we,  write 
under  the  name  of  Him  "  who  brought  life  and  immortal- 
ity to  light,"  and  how  much  higher  than  the  highest  shall 
we  exalt  Him  ?  Faith  answers,  and  reverent  Reason  says 
"Amen," — "  God  over  all,  blessed  forevermore." 

To  test  the  soundness  of  this  stupendous  inference,  let 
us  carry  the  grave  inquiry  into  the  following  discourse; 
and  it  may  come  to  pass  that  even  captious  and  self-suffi- 
cient Doubt  will  recognize  Divinity  veiled  and  hooded  in 
the  humanity  of  Christ. 


TJNITARIAKISM. 

"And  Pilate  saith  unto  them :  Behold  the  man !  "    John  xix,  5. 

"  Like  us  a  man,  He  trod  on  earthly  soil, 
He  bore  each  pang,  and  strove  in  weary  toil ; 
He  spake  with  human  words,  with  pity  sighed ; 
Like  us  He  mourned,  and  feared,  and  wept,  and  died." 

"  Yet  all  thy  fullness,  Father,  dwelt  in  Him, 
In  whom  no  shadow  made  the  glory  dim ; 
Such  strength,  O  God!  from  Him  to  us  derive, 
And  make,  by  life  from  Him,  our  death  alive." 

John  Sterling. 

SOMETIMES  words  express  more  than  their  author  in- 
tends, or  are  susceptible  of  a  deeper  meaning  than 
he  imagined  when  they  fell  from  his  lips.  Thus  when 
Caiaphas  said  that  "it  was  expedient  that  one  man  should 
die  for  the  people,  and  that  the  whole  nation  perish  not," 
he  had  not  the  remotest  idea  that  his  language  was  pro- 
phetical, and  that  he  was  not  only  predicting  the  death 
of  Jesus,  but  was  actually  shadowing  forth  its  great  de- 
sign. Yet,  if  the  apostle  is  to  be  credited,  such  was  the 
case.  And  when  Pontius  Pilate,  the  sixth  Roman  pro- 
curator of  Judea,  a  cold,  cruel,  calculating  ruler,  morally 
enervated  and  incapable  of  vigorous  rectitude,  after  the 
scourging  of  the  obscure  Nazarene  in  the  Pragtorium,  had 
brought  Him  once  again  into  the  presence  of  His  furious 
accusers,  hoping,  by  the  pitiable  spectacle  of  His  suffer- 
ings, to  excite  compassion  and  obtain  His  liberation  with- 
out compromising  himself,  he  could  not  have  anticipated 
that  his  exclamation,  "Behold  the  man!"  would  form  the 
text  of  many, a  sermon,  and  would  be  regarded  as  an  un- 

182 


THE   MARVELOUS   MANHOOD.  183 

conscious  tribute  to  an  exclusive  and  exceptional  personal 
grandeur  in  the  prisoner  worthy  of  attentive  thought 
throughout  successive  generations.  Yet  this  is  exactly 
the  impression  made  on  many  minds.  The  words  of  the 
governor  are  so  concise  and  direct  that,  if  the  emphasis  is 
laid  on  the  definite  article,  his  speech  sounds  like  the  voice 
of  inspiration  testifying  to  the  unique,  unprecedented,  and 
unapproachable  manhood  of  Jesus.  It  is  as  though  he 
said:  "Behold  the  flower  of  humanity,  the  bright  con- 
summation and  circled  completeness  of  the  race,  the  one 
being  who  cannot  be  compared  with  any  other,  who  is  as 
high  above  all  others  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the 
earth,  and  who  gathers  in  Himself  and  expresses  in  Him- 
self the  diverse  excellences  of  all  the  generations  past  and 
of  those  yet  to  come.  Behold  Him,  who  should  be  called 
preeminently  the  31cm,  as  in  Him  the  ideal  perfection, 
toward  which  countless  weary  souls  have  been  struggling, 
is  actualized;  and  the  impossible  dreams  of  spiritual  beauty, 
which  have  haunted  the  minds  of  the  noblest  and  the 
purest,  are  fulfilled."  The  proud  Roman,  of  course,  had 
no  such  thought  as  this  when  he  presented  the  outraged 
Jesus  to  His  enemies;  but  it  occurs  to  us  as  we  ponder 
his  language,  and  it  has  come  to  be  the  faith  of  reflecting 
and  reverent  millions. 

To  the  Unitarians  the  world  is  largely  indebted  for  the 
elevated  and  now  widely  prevalent  conception  of  Christ's 
manhood.  There  was  a  time  when  His  character  was 
painted  in  somber,  threatening  colors,  that  displayed  the 
awfulness  of  majesty  more  than  the  sweetness  of  mercy. 
He  was  to  the  middle  ages  a  harsh,  implacable  judge,  a 
far-off,  isolated  king,  whose  reluctant  benediction  was  only 
obtainable  through  the  interposition  of  hearts  more  tender 
than  His  own.  A  few  gifted  souls  discovered  the  injustice 
of  such  delineations,  but  the  majority  of  Christian  people 
adhered  to  them  even  after  the  Reformation.     Protestant 


184  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

theology  in  its  earlier  stages  reproduced  them,  modifying 
them  slightly  in  some  particulars,  while  it  amplified  them 
in  others.  The  human  figure  it  presented  was  morally 
sublime,  but  it  was  too  mechanical  in  its  splendid  right- 
eousness, too  automatic  in  its  wonderful  beneficence,  and 
too  frigid,  stiff,  and  angular  in  its  saving  sympathy  for  it 
to  be  a  faithful  portrait  of  the  Redeemer.  But  with  the 
growth  of  Unitarian  sentiments  the  rigid  lines  of  this  like- 
ness have  been  softened,  its  stateliness  has  been  relaxed, 
and  into  the  whole  composition  has  been  thrown  a  tender 
light,  like  that  which  gleams  from  the  eyes  of  the  infant 
Jesus  and  irradiates  the  faces  of  the  cherubim  in  Raphael's 
Madonna  di  San  Sisto.  Herder  and  Channing,  and  possibly 
Theodore  Parker,  are  entitled  to  much  credit  for  this  trans- 
formation ;  though  in  my  opinion  the  more  orthodox 
school,  represented  by  such  writers  as  Horace  Bushnell 
and  Frederick  Robertson,  is  to  be  commended  for  recent 
endeavors  in  the  same  direction;  and  even  the  rationalists 
Strauss  and  Renan,  have  not  failed  to  furnish  some  valu- 
able material  toward  the  completion  of  this  work.  But, 
while  the  labors  of  all  are  to  be  acknowledged,  to  Unita- 
rians must  be  assigned  the  high  honor  of  leadership  in 
the  movement  to  restore  the  true  manhood  of  Jesus  to 
the  thought  of  the  world.  Whatever  the  shortcomings 
of  their  theology  may  be  in  other  respects,  at  least  in  this 
it  harmonizes  very  fully  with  the  teachings  of  the  New 
Testament;  and  however  it  may  fail  to  generate  a  deep 
spirit  of  piety,  it  admirably  succeeds  in  presenting  to 
society  the  most  exalted  model  of  human  duty.  So  im- 
pressed am  I  with  what  I  recognize  as  their  influence  on 
literature,  art,  and  philanthropy,  that  it  is  to  me  the  most 
ungrateful  of  tasks  to  question  the  wholesome  effect  of 
their  views  on  devotion  and  spirituality.  Yet  it  will  hardly 
be  claimed  by  their  most  ardent  admirers  —  and  among 
them  I  venture  to  class  myself  —  that  in  these  latter  re- 


PERPLEXITIES.  185 

spects  their  churches  approach  the  standard  supplied  by 
the  authors  of  the  Gospels  and  Epistles.  And  if  they  do 
not,  the  failure  must  be  largely  due  to  some  defect  in  their 
doctrine,  and  particularly  to  some  radical  inconsistency  in 
their  treatment  of  Christ's  essential  nature.  This,  I  am 
persuaded,  is  more  than  a  mere  suspicion.  There  are  rea- 
sons for  believing  that  the  most  exalted  conception  of 
manhood  does  not  exhaust  the  apparently  infinite  mean- 
ing there  is  in  Christ;  that  it  is  at  best  but  a  fragment,  a 
Torso  requiring  another  and  a  sublimer  conception  for  its 
completion,  and  which,  like  the  Torso  at  Rome,  while  de- 
lighting and  refining,  must  always  fail  to  produce  in  mind 
and  heart  the  same  great  effect  that  the  unbroken  figure 
would.  It  is  just  at  this  point  where  Unitarianism,  espe- 
cially of  the  advanced  type,  is  seriously  at  fault.  It  takes 
for  granted  that  the  humanity  of  Jesus  is  the  all  of  Jesus; 
that  He  is  man  and  only  man,  and  that  when  this  is  said 
everything  is  said. 

But  how  can  such  a  question  as  this  be  decided  ?  How 
can  it  be  shown  that  He  who  is  the  subject  of  these  doubts 
is  anything  more  than  the  crown  and  glory  of  the  race  — 
its  supreme  development,  and  its  grandest  representative  ? 
He  appears  in  history  as  a  man.  He  exhibits  in  His  life 
all  the  essential  attributes  of  a  man,  and  at  the  last  He 
suffers  and  dies  as  a  man.  Why,  then,  should  it  be  imag- 
ined that  He  is  anything  higher  ?  As  it  was  said  during 
his  ministry,  "  Is  not  this  the  carpenter,  the  son  of  Mary, 
and  brother  of  James,  and  Joses,  and  Judas,  and  Simon  ? 
and  are  not  his  sisters  here  with  us  ?  "  Yes;  and  yet  they 
who  asked  these  questions  were  astounded  by  His  wisdom 
and  perplexed  by  His  mighty  works.  They  were  not  sure 
of  their  ground;  neither  are  we.  Permit  then  an  additional 
inquiry.  Why  did  the  astronomer  Leverrier  affirm  the 
existence  of  an  unseen  orb,  and  predict  its  appearance  in 
the  heavens  at  a  certain  time  ?    And  why  was  Christopher 


186  isms  Old  and  new. 

Columbus  so  fully  convinced  that  beyond  the  waste  and 
darkness  of  unknown  seas  another  continent  would  be 
found  ?  The  answer  is  not  difficult.  The  student  of 
the  skies  inferred  from  the  irregular  movements  of  the 
planet  Uranus  the  existence  of  a  disturbing  body;  and  the 
brave  navigator  was  led  by  what  he  knew  of  one  hemis- 
phere to  infer  the  indispensableness  of  another.  They 
reasoned  from  the  known  to  the  unknown,  from  the  seen 
to  the  unseen,  from  the  part  to  the  whole,  and  the  result 
in  both  cases  justified  the  soundness  of  the  process.  And 
in  a  similar  way  evangelical  thinkers,  having  fathomed  the 
depths  and  scaled  the  heights  of  humanity,  and  having 
measured  by  sixty  centuries  of  history  what  it  is  capable 
of  producing,  have  been  forced  to  conclude  that  such  a 
manhood  as  friend  and  foe  attribute  to  Christ  is  deeper 
than  its  depths,  higher  than  its  heights,  and  entirely 
beyond  its  power  to  generate;  and  consequently,  that  it 
calls  for  another  and  a  more  heavenly  orb  to  explain  its 
eccentric  movements,  for  another  and  grander  continent  to 
balance  the  lowly  one  of  earth,  for  another  nature  than  the 
human  to  account  for  it  rationally,  even  such  a  nature  as 
that  toward  which  the  testimony  of  Scriptures  manifestly 
points. 

In  pursuing  this  line  of  argument  it  is  important  to 
recall  some  special  features  of  a  character  which  favor  so 
startling  and  astounding  a  doctrine.  And  among  them 
there  is  perhaps  none  more  impressive  than  its  blameless- 
ness.  Jesus  challenged  his  enemies  to  convict  him  of  sin, 
and  with  the  exception  of  a  few  querulous  critics,  like 
Schenkel  and  Strauss,  the  impossibility  of  doing  so  has 
been  acknowledged.  This  at  once  differentiates  Him  from 
the  race;  for  iniquity  is  a  universal  malady,  from  which 
not  even  the  noblest  philosophers,  such  as  Plato  and  Soc- 
rates, and  the  purest  of  religious  reformers,  such  as 
Buddha   and   Mahomet,  have  dared  to   claim  exemption. 


BLAMELESS^ESS   OF   CHRIST.  187 

How  comes  it,  then,  that  Jesus  is  the  only  being  saved 
from  this  contamination  ?  He  appears  in  the  world,  and 
is  yet  not  of  the  world;  He  mingles  with  publicans  and 
harlots,  and  is  yet  "separate  from  sinners."  As  the  gulf 
stream  passes  immediately  from  its  home  into  the  waters 
of  the  stormful  Atlantic,  and,  while  flowing  through  them, 
never  mingles  with  them,  but  preserves  its  own  course,  its 
own  density  and  color,  compressed,  inclosed,  yet  never 
penetrated,  so  the  Son  of  Man  enters  the  more  treacherous 
and  tempestuous  ocean-wastes  of  life,  and  though  touched 
on  every  side,  never  takes  on  the  moral  hue  of  his  sur- 
roundings, nor  in  the  least  is  swerved  from  the  direct  line 
of  duty  by  their  variations.  Who  can  tell  by  what  mys- 
tery of  attraction  the  blue  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
are  so  closely  bound,  or  who  explain  why  the  emerald 
walls  through  which  their  way  is  channeled  should  never 
be  able  to  invade  their  sanctity,  every  effort  to  do  so  only 
pressing  them  into  a  ridge,  rising  high  and  sloping  both  to 
right  and  left  ?  and  who  can  account  for  the  fact  that  this 
peasant-preacher  not  only  preserves  unstained  his  righteous 
character  in  an  evil  world  like  this,  but  even  develops  a 
loftier  and  grander  righteousness  the  more  closely  he  is 
hemmed  in  by  wickedness  and  environed  by  temptation  ? 
It  will  not  do  to  say  that  His  personal  exaltation  was  due 
to  the  healing  influence  of  the  age  in  which  He  lived,  or 
to  the  surroundings  of  His  youth,  or  to  the  training  of  His 
parents;  for  the  times  were  morally  malarious,  and  the 
community  in  which  His  lot  was  cast  was  famous  for  its 
degradation,  and  the  home  education  He  received  was  not 
at  the  best  superior  to  that  which  millions  have  enjoyed. 
And  yet,  though  His  social  environments  were  unfavorable 
to  virtue,  He  evinces  from  the  first  a  moral  greatness,  une- 
qualed  in  the  annals  of  mankind.  Rousseau,  alluding  to 
Socrates,  exclaims:  "What  a  delusion  it  is  to  venture  to 
compare  the  son  of  Sophroniskos  with  the  Son  of  Mary!  " 


188  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

and  multiplied  endeavors  have  proved  the  hopelessness  of 
finding  a  parallel  anywhere.  He  stands  alone  among  men, 
the  sole  perfection.  The  righteousness  of  others  looks 
like  the  travesty  of  some  sublime  code,  a  poor  attempt 
running  into  caricature,  it  is  so  flavored  with  inconsisten- 
cies, so  flecked  with  evil;  while  that  of  Christ  is  so  com- 
plete that  it  seems  to  be  the  very  code  itself  translating 
itself  into  the  vernacular  of  conduct.  His  purity  as  far  ex- 
cels that  of  the  purest  as  the  reflection  of  the  sun's  luster  in 
the  ocean  transcends  its  dim  sparkle  in  the  stagnant  pool; 
it  is  as  superior  to  everything  that  claims  kindred  with  it  as 
the  sun  itself  is  superior  to  the  stars  whose  mingled  light 
it  quenches  in  its  flood  of  glory.  Well,  therefore,  may  it 
be  confessed  that  He  cannot  without  violence  be  classed 
with  beings  merely  human ;  for  while  He  is  allied  to  them, 
and  while  He  shares  their  nature,  it  is  as  one  who  is  not 
of  it,  but  above  it. 

Attention  has  frequently  been  directed  to  this  particu- 
lar trait  of  His  character,  and  doubtless  much  more  could 
be  added;  but  there  are  others  which  have  not  been  as 
fully  considered,  and  which  very  strongly  point  toward  the 
superhuman.  Stress  should  be  laid  on  His  independence — 
an  independence  that  marked  alike  His  thought  and  His 
action.  This,  taken  by  itself,  would  hardly  warrant  the 
supposition  of  even  preternatural  manhood,  for  it  is  not  an 
uncommon  virtue;  but,  taken  in  connection  with  all  the  cir- 
cumstances which  surrounded  Jesus,  it  forms  a  link  in  the 
chain  of  reasoning  that  apparently  necessitates  divinity. 
It  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  remarkable  that  a  youthful 
member  of  a  conquered  race,  who  must  have  seen  that  his 
people  were  doing  their  utmost  to  conserve  the  good  will 
of  their  masters,  should  have  pursued  his  way  in  perfect 
indifference  to  their  opinion.  If  it  is  suggested  that  He  is 
but  one  of  many  heroes  who  have  championed  the  cause  of 
their  distressed  country,  it    should    be   remembered   that 


CHRIST'S   INDEPENDENCE.  189 

these  chosen  leaders  have  always  sympathized  with  the 
spirit  and  institutions  of  the  land  for  whose  sufferings 
they  felt  so  deeply.  This,  however,  is  not  true  of  Christ. 
He  not  only  treads  the  earth  as  though  there  were  no 
Romans,  but  He  pursues  His  way  as  though  there  were  no 
Jews.  He  antagonizes  with  the  ideas,  customs,  rites,  of 
His  own  people  far  more  than  He  opposes  the  invader. 
In  one  sense,  He  seems  to  live  in  an  atmosphere  of  obliv- 
ion, to  speak  and  act  from  a  deep  realization  of  duty, 
unconscious  and  heedless  of  those  whom  He  might  offend. 
Of  course,  events  made  Him  fully  sensible  of  the  enemies 
He  was  creating,  but  it  worked  no  change  in  His  manner 
or  conduct.  To  the  end  He  stood  by  His  convictions, 
calmly  listened  to  the  revilings  of  His  foes,  and  with  the 
shadow  of  the  cross  on  His  path,  continued  to  denounce 
their  bigotry,  their  ceremonialism  and  self-righteousness. 
Having  shocked  his  generation  by  proclaiming  the  equality 
of  man,  the  spirituality  of  worship,  the  sacredness  of  chari- 
ty, and  the  universal  need  of  a  Redeemer,  He  quietly  sur- 
renders His  life,  and  in  His  last  moments  startles  all  who 
contemplate  His  sufferings  by  breathing  the  then  unheard- 
of  prayer:  "Father,  forgive  them,  they  know  not  what 
they  do."  Such  independence  as  this  cannot  be  classed 
with  that  of  the  patriot,  for  the  intense  love  of  country 
which  makes  a  hero  mighty  against  his  enemies  also  blinds 
him  to  its  faults,  and  leads  him  to  extenuate,  not  expose, 
them.  Neither  can  it  be  accounted  for  by  the  spirit  of  the 
age,  which  was  servile  and  calculating;  nor  can  it  be  traced 
to  the  influence  of  royalty,  as  it  might  be  in  the  case  of 
Buddha,  for  Jesus  was  a  peasant  born,  and  had  only  a 
peasant's  inspirations.  Under  these  circumstances  it  is 
difficult  to  divest  oneself  of  the  impression  that  it  is  the 
sign  of  a  superior  nature,  and  possibly  of  a  nature  out- 
ranking in  dignity  every  degree  of  creaturehood. 

The  ancient  Egyptians  rendered  divine  honors  to  the 


190  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

Nile.  Unlike  other  rivers,  that  sacred  stream  derives  no 
addition  to  its  fullness  from  humbler  profluent  tributaries, 
but  is  fed  by  hidden  sources  and  by  rains  from  heaven. 
It  gives  to  the  land  through  which  it  flows,  and  receives 
not  in  return.  Unsustained,  unsupplied,  and  unincreased 
by  waters  from  the  heart  of  Egypt,  it  proudly  pursues  its 
journey  to  the  sea,  enriching  but  not  enriched.  Its  state- 
ly independence  aroused  the  admiration  of  the  millions 
who  in  olden  times  dwelt  along  its  banks,  and  to  their 
faith  it  assumed  the  sanctity  of  a  god.  On  the  verge  of 
the  glacier,  planted  among  sterile  rocks,  surrounded  by 
inhospitable  snows,  confronting  defiant^  ten  long  months 
of  rigorous  winter,  the  arolla  lives,  strives,  and  conquers. 
The  hurricane  cannot  subdue  it,  the  searching  icy  wind 
cannot  penetrate  it,  the  might  of  the  avalanche  cannot 
overwhelm  it,  and  the  fierce  frost  that  rends  the  granite 
cannot  cleave  its  sinewy  trunk.  Upon  what  does  it  feed  ? 
from  what  does  it  derive  its  strength  ?  by  what  is  it  sup- 
ported in  a  region  where  other  plants  find  only  death  ? 
Light!  the  rays  of  the  sun  nourish  and  comfort  it  in  its 
deary  solitude.  Not  from  the  earth  but  from  the  heavens 
it  receives  its  aliment,  which  it  appropriates  to  itself,  in- 
corporating the  subtle  power  of  sunbeams  into  its  own 
vitality.  And  why  may  not  this  lonely  Jesus,  this  solitary 
man,  who  poured  the  wealth  of  his  love  on  an  unappre- 
ciating  and  unresponsive  world,  who  streamed  through  its 
barren  wastes  bearing  spiritual  healing  and  plenty  to  its 
desolate  millions,  and  who  received  nothing  in  return  and 
who  sought  nothing,  have  descended  from  heights  grander 
than  those  in  which  the  origin  of  the  Nile  is  hidden,  and 
have  sustained  a  closer  relation  to  the  Everlasting  Father 
than  that  sacred  river  to  the  rain-dispensing  clouds  ? 
And  why  may  not  He,  fittingly  called  by  the  inspired 
prophet  "a  root  out  of  dry  ground,"  whose  barren 
and  wintry  surroundings  threatened  to  crush  and  to  de- 


THE   INFALLIBILITY   OF   JESUS.  191 

stroy,  but  who  amid  the  human  tempest  lifted  high  His 
head,  and  dauntlessly  spoke  His  message,  have  been  up- 
held and  rendered  free  of  fear  through  the  indwelling  of  a 
Light  surpassing  the  sun  in  power  and  radiance,  and  why 
may  not  His  affinity  for  that  Light  —  which  here  shall  not 
be  named  —  proclaim  a  nature  more  deeply  allied  to  the 
inner  glory  of  the  heavens  than  to  the  weakness  and 
shame  of  earth  ? 

If  we  associate  with  the  independence  of  Jesus  His  in- 
fallibility, these  conjectures  will  gather  additional  force, 
and  may  lead  us  to  the  truth.  As  His  biography  is 
studied,  His  profound  insight  into  men  and  things  and 
His  foresight  of  particular  and  general  movements  cannot 
be  overlooked.  The  reader  hardly  knows  which  to  admire 
most,  His  spirit  of  penetration  or  His  spirit  of  prophecy; 
His  vision  that  discerns  the  hidden  thoughts  of  His  con- 
temporaries, or  that  which  sees  through  the  vista  of  ages 
the  end  from  the  beginning.  But  from  whatever  side  it 
is  contemplated,  His  infallibility  is  undeniable.  He  made 
no  mistakes.  It  cannot  be  shown  that  on  any  occasion  He 
fell  into  errors  of  speech  or  of  conduct.  He  was  always 
accurate,  always  correct,  always  right.  No  necessity  has 
arisen  in  the  course  of  eighteen  centuries  to  revise  His 
teachings  or  to  apologize  for  His  predictions.  They  have 
both  vindicated  themselves;  the  first,  by  their  adaptation 
to  man's  spiritual  needs;  the  second,  whether  relating  to 
the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  the  progress  of  Christianity,  or  to 
the  march  of  empire  by  their  fulfillment  in  history.  Other 
men  have  been  inspired,  and  have  uttered  truths  concern- 
ing the  present  and  the  future,  but  none  who,  in  every 
respect,  in  conduct  as  well  as  in  preaching,  in  personal  as 
well  as  in  public  affairs,  has  been  absolutely  unerring. 
Your  Johns,  your  Pauls  and  Peters  were  not  exempt  from 
infirmities,  or  saved  from  the  commission  of  serious  blun- 
ders.    It  would  seem  as  though  the   Infinite   Spirit   had 


192  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

painted  faithfully  their  career,  that  all  might  see  that  even 
inspired  men  are  not  infallible  men,  and  that  the  only  infal- 
lible man  known  to  the  world  is  Jesus  —  and  such  being 
the  case,  that  it  is  very  questionable  whether  it  is  admis- 
sible to  speak  of  Him  as  man  at  all. 

The  wonderful  influence  of  our  Savior  is  calculated  to 
aid  us  in  arriving  at  a  reliable  conclusion  on  this  point. 
Christ  in  subsequent  history  is  more  marvelous  than  Christ 
in  Galilee.  Since  the  removal  of  His  human  presence  He 
has  wrought  more  stupendous  miracles  than  He  performed 
in  Syria.  There  and  then  he  simply  opened  the  eyes  of  a 
few  blind  men,  restored  to  health  some  who  were  sick,  fed 
occasionally  a  hungry  crowd,  and  raised  an  inconsiderable 
number  from  the  dead;  but  since  His  ascension  He  has 
removed  from  nations  the  veil  of  mental  darkness,  has 
imparted  moral  health  to  entire  communities,  has  satisfied 
the  longings  of  millions  for  the  imperishable  bread,  and 
has  rescued  tribes,  races  and  peoples  from  the  dreariness 
of  spiritual  death.  For  some  eighteen  hundred  years  He 
has  been  the  real  leader  of  the  world's  progress.  Its  ma- 
jestic movements,  surprising  revolutions,  startling  refor- 
mations, upheavals,  convulsions  and  transformations  are 
traceable  to  the  power  of  His  name.  And  for  what  yet 
grander  results  may  we  not  hope  from  this  apparently 
exhaustless  source?  Plato  said  that  "beauty  is  the  re- 
flection of  truth,"  and  it  is  equally  safe  to  say  that  truth 
is  the  reflection  of  God.  In  Christ  it.  shone  supremely, 
and  before  His  presence  the  night  of  nights  could  not 
endure.  As  the  Scriptures  represent  Him,  like  the  sun  He 
rose  upon  the  world  and  began  His  triumphant  journey, 
"  rejoicing  as  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race."  But  the 
zenith  has  not  been  reached;  it  is  not  high  noon  yet. 
Already  His  celestial  rays,  falling  on  the  horrible  brood  of 
superstitions  engendered  by  weary  years  of  mud  and  slime, 
have  inflicted  on  them  a  mortal  wound,  as  in  the  legend  the 


THE    INFLUENCE   OF   JESUS.  193 

burning  shafts  of  the  god  of  day  destroyed  the  pernicious 
offspring  of  many-folded  Python.  Already  the  mists  and 
vapors,  born  of  the  turbid  seas  of  human  error,  and  which 
once  obscured  the  heavens,  He  has  dispersed,  and  faintly 
at  least  the  gates  of  the  Holy  City  can  be  seen.  Already 
the  clouds  of  suffering  are  transfused  by  His  love,  and  the 
silver  lining  can  be  discovered,  prophetic  of  the  hour  when 
every  shadow  shall  cease  to  fall  on  human  lives.  Even  now 
His  burning  splendor  melts  the  sunless  heart,  gently  opens 
the  sleeping  eyes  of  childhood  to  the  high  concerns  of  an 
eternal  scene,  and  calls  the  weary  pilgrim  to  the  blessed 
song  of  hope;  but  by  and  by  He  who  is  shining  more  and 
more  shall  bring  the  perfect  day,  and  then  the  weeping 
that  endures  for  the  night  shall  cease,  and  joy,  endless, 
world-wide  joy,  shall  come  with  the  eternal  morning. 
Lecky,  in  his  History  of  European  Morals,  calls  at- 
tention to  this  potent  and  boundless  influence  in  these 
vigorous  words:  "It  was  reserved  for  Christianity  to 
present  to  the  world  an  ideal  character,  which  through  all 
the  changes  of  eighteen  centuries  has  inspired  the  hearts 
of  men  with  an  impassioned  love,  has  shown  itself  capable 
of  acting  on  all  ages,  nations,  temperaments  and  conditions, 
has  been  not  only  the  highest  pattern  of  virtue,  but  the 
strongest  incentive  to  its  practice,  and  has  exercised  so 
deep  an  influence  that  it  may  be  truly  said  that  the  simple 
record  of  these  three  short  years  of  active  life  has  done 
more  to  regenerate  and  soften  mankind  than  all  the  dis- 
quisitions of  philosophers  and  all  the  exhortations  of 
moralists.  This  has  been  the  well-spring  of  whatever  is 
best  and  purest  in  the  Christian  life."  But  who  is  this 
Being  of  whom  an  avowed  rationalist  is  constrained  to 
speak  in  these  unmeasured  terms  ?  Surely  not  a  mere 
creature  like  himself;  surely  not  an  empty  ideal,  a  beauti- 
ful fiction.  And  who  or  what  is  He  who  in  so  brief  an 
9 


194  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

earthly  ministry  acquired    such    tremendous,  lasting   and 
beneficent  power  over  the  destinies  of  mankind  ? 

Before  I  undertake  to  formulate  the  answer  you  already 
anticipate,  permit  me  to  emphasize  the  significant  fact 
that  the  most  diverse,  not  to  say  adverse,  schools  of 
thought  have  conceded  the  inscrutableness  of  Christ's 
manhood.  Rugged  Carlyle,  who,  whatever  may  have  been 
his  faults,  could  appreciate  nobility  of  soul,  and  who  pro- 
tested all  his  life  against  shams,  acknowledged  the  impen- 
etrab'leness  of  Jesus.  He  studied  Him;  he  tried  to  fathom 
the  depth  of  His  mystery,  and  concluded  that  He  would 
ever  remain  unfathomed  and  unfathomable.  Hear  him  in 
his  chapter  on  Symbols:  "Highest  of  all  symbols  are 
those  wherein  the  artist  or  poet  has  risen  into  prophet. 
...  I  mean  religious  symbols.  Various  enough  have  been 
such  religious  symbols,  what  we  call  religious.  ...  If 
thou  ask  to  what  height  man  has  carried  it  in  this  matter 
look  on  our  divinest  symbol, —  on  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  and 
His  life  and  His  biography,  and  what  followed  therefrom. 
Higher  has  the  human  thought  not  yet  reached;  this  is 
Christianity  and  Christendom;  a  symbol  of  quite  peren- 
nial, infinite  character,  whose  significance  will  ever  demand 
to  be  anew  inquired  into,  and  anew  made  manifest." 
Speaking  of  heroes  he  says:  "Hero  worship,  heartfelt, 
prostrate  admiration,  submissive,  burning,  boundless,  for  a 
noblest  godlike  form  of  man:  is  not  that  the  germ  of 
Christianity  itself?  The  greatest  of  all  heroes  is  one 
whom  we  do  not  name  here.  Let  sacred  silence  meditate 
that  sacred  truth;  you  will  find  it  the  ultimate  perfection 
of  a  principle  extant  throughout  man's  whole  history  on 
earth."  Dr.  Channing  maintained  that  "such  a  character 
utterly  surpasses  human  comprehension."  Napoleon  is 
credited  by  Abbott  with  this  thoughtful  expression:  "The 
nature  of  Christ  is,  I  grant  it,  from  one  end  to  another  a 
web  of  mysteries;  but  this  mysteriousness  does  not  corre- 


AN"   INSCRUTABLE    MANHOOD.  195 

spond  to  the  difficulties  which  all  existence  contains." 
That  is,  in  it  he  sees  something  more  perplexing  than  is 
offered  to  the  mind  by  all  other  orders  of  being.  John 
Stuart  Mill,  who  explicitly  denies  Christ's  Divinity,  yet  in 
his  posthumous  book  on  the  Utility  of  Religion  and  The- 
ism writes  of  Him  in  the  following  glowing  terms:  "The 
most  valuable  part  of  the  effect  on  the  character  which 
Christianity  has  produced  by  holding  up  in  a  divine  person 
a  standard  of  excellence  and  a  model  for  imitation,  is  avail- 
able even  to  the  absolute  unbeliever,  and  can  never  more 
be  lost  to  humanity.  For  it  is  Christ  rather  than  God 
whom  Christianity  has  held  up  to  believers  as  the  pattern  of 
perfection  for  humanity.  It  is  the  God  incarnate,  more  than 
the  God  of  the  Jews,  or  of  nature,  who,  being  idealized, 
has  taken  so  great  and  salutary  a  hold  on  the  modern  mind. 
And  whatever  else  may  be  taken  away  by  rational  criticism 
Christ  is  still  left,  a  unique  figure,  not  more  unlike  His 
precursors  than  all  His  followers,  even  those  who  had  the 
direct  benefit  of  His  personal  teaching.  It  is  of  no  use  to 
say  that  Christ,  as  exhibited  in  the  gospels,  is  not  his- 
torical, and  that  we  know  not  how  much  of  what  is  admir- 
able has  been  superadded  by  the  tradition  of  His  followers. 
The  tradition  of  followers  suffices  to  insert  any  number  of 
marvels,  and  may  have  inserted  all  the  miracles  which  He 
is  reputed  to  have  wrought.  But  who  among  His  disci- 
ples, or  among  their  proselytes,  was  capable  of  inventing 
the  sayings  ascribed  to  Jesus,  or  of  imagining  the  life  and 
character  revealed  in  the  gospels  ?  Certainly  not  the 
fishermen  of  Galilee;  as  certainly  not  St.  Paul,  whose 
character  and  idiosyncrasies  were  of  a  totally  different 
sort;  still  less  the  early  Christian  writers,  in  whom  nothing 
is  more  evident  than  that  the  good  which  was  in  them  was 
all  derived,  as  they  always  professed  that  it  was  derived, 
from  the  highest  source."  Evidently  Mr.  Mill  is  perplexed. 
This  Jesus  is  not  an  invention,  He  is  a  grand  reality;  but 


196  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

how  He  ever  came  to  be  what  He  is  Mr.  Mill  cannot  tell. 
The  problem  is  too  intricate  for  him.  He  stammers  and 
falls  dumb  before  it.  And  Theodore  Parker,  equally  be- 
wildered, when  referring  to  the  labors  of  the  primitive 
disciples,  asks:  "But  eighteen  centuries  have  passed  since 
the  sun  of  humanity  rose  so  high  in  Jesus;  what  man,  what 
sect,  has  mastered  His  thought,  comprehended  His  method, 
and  so  fully  applied  it  to  life  ?  "  Unquestionably  they  are 
right.  He  is  the  puzzle  and  problem  of  ages,  before  whom 
all  tongues  are  mute.  As  man  never  spake  like  Him,  so 
man  never  lived  like  Him.  The  geodetics  of  philosophy, 
and  the  surveyings  and  weighings  of  rationalism,  fail  to 
give  us  His  true  figure  and  His  moral  dimensions.  His 
spiritual  stature  defies  our  yard-sticks  and  other  instru- 
ments of  human  measurement;  and  when  we  have  done 
our  best  to  dwarf  Him  to  the  narrow  range  of  our  under- 
standing, which  is  attempted  by  subtracting  from  Him  in 
the  interest  of  some  poor  earthly  hypothesis  certain 
graces  and  powers  usually  attributed  to  Him, —  we  find 
ourselves  still  uttering  words  similar  to  those  written  by 
Renan,  when  having  undertaken  this  herculean  task  he 
exclaims:  "Repose  now  in  thy  glory,  noble  founder!  Thy 
work  is  finished,  thy  divinity  is  established.  .  .  .  What- 
ever may  be  the  surprises  of  the  future,  Jesus  will  never 
be  surpassed." 

But  is  there  no  explanation?  Are  all  inquiries  to  be 
baffled,  all  efforts  to  unravel  the  riddle  to  be  unavailing? 
Are  we  perpetually  to  feel  the  wondrous  presence  of  this 
mighty  Being,  and  never  be  able  to  decide  whether  He  is 
merely  human  or  essentially  Divine  ?  It  is  incredible  that 
the  All-Father  should  have  destined  us  to  this  uncertainty 
and  that  there  should  be  no  clew  to  the  mystery.  I  for 
one  am  compelled  to  believe  otherwise,  and  cannot  resist 
the  logical  force  of  the  testimonies  borne  by  reluctant 
witnesses  to  this  amazing  manhood.     When  Celsus  sneers 


UNBIASED   WITNESSES.  197 

at  Christ's  predictions  regarding  the  universal  spread  of 
His  religion,  which,  however,  have  been  fulfilled;  when 
Chubb  acknowledges  that  we  have  in  Him  "an  example  of 
a  quiet  and  peaceable  spirit,  of  a  becoming  modesty  and 
sobriety,  just,  honest,  upright,  and  sincere,"  qualities,  mark 
you,  that  this  wicked  world  of  ours  does  not  evince  any 
strong  liking  for;  when  Goethe  says  to  Eckermann,  "I 
look  upon  all  the  Four  Gospels  as  thoroughly  genuine,  for 
there  is  in  them  the  reflection  of  a  greatness  which  ema- 
nated from  the  person  of  Jesus  and  which  was  of  as  divine 
a  kind  as  ever  was  seen  upon  earth,"  and  when  Strauss 
declares  that  "  Christ  remains  the  highest  model  of  relig- 
ion within  the  reach  of  our  thought,"  and  "that  no  perfect 
piety  is  possible  without  His  presence  in  the  heart,"  repre- 
sentations wholly  inexplicable  on  the  Unitarian  hypothe- 
sis, I  am  constrained  to  inquire,  exclaim,  and  conclude 
with  Rousseau:  "Is  it  possible  that  the  sacred  personage, 
whose  history  the  Bible  contains,  should  be  Himself  a 
mere  man?  What  sweetness,  what  purity  in  His  manner! 
What  an  affecting:  gracefulness  in  His  instructions!  What 
sublimity  in  His  maxims !  What  profound  wisdom  in 
His  discourses  !  If  the  life  and  the  death  of  Socrates  are 
those  of  a  sage,  the  life  and  death  of  Jesus  are  those  of  a 
God."  And  in  view  of  these  concessions,  uttered  by  Uni- 
tarians or  by  those  who  sympathize  with  their  doctrine 
concerning  the  merely  human  nature  of  our  Lord,  I  can- 
not but  subscribe  to  the  essentially  orthodox  statement  of 
James  Martineau,  the  prince  of  Unitarians,  albeit  his  beau- 
tiful words  may  suggest  to  my  thought  a  higher  meaning 
than  he  intended  to  convey:  "Not  more  clearly  does  the 
worship  of  the  saintly  soul,  breathing  through  its  windows 
opened  to  the  midnight,  betray  the  secrets  of  its  affections, 
than  the  mind  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  reveals  the  perfect 
thought  and  inmost  love  of  the  all-ruling  God.  Were  He 
the  only  born— the  solitary  self-revelation  —  of  the  ere- 


198  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

ative  Spirit,  He  could  not  more  purely  open  the  mind  of 
heaven;  being  the  very  Logos  —  the  apprehensible  nature 
of  God  —  which,  long  unuttered  to  the  world,  and  abiding 
in  the  beginning  with  Him,  has  now  come  forth  and  dwelt 
among  us,  full  of  grace  and  truth."  Thus  all  these  varied 
writers,  starting  from  different  points  of  view  and  pursu- 
ing widely  divergent  routes,  arrive  at  conclusions  which 
are  plainly  irreconcilable  with  what  they  profess  to  hold. 
Nor  is  it  possible  if  they  are  rejected  to  make  of  Christian- 
ity a  consistent  system,  or  consistently  to  account  for 
Christ  Himself;  but,  as  the  great  Napoleon  is  reported 
by  Abbott  to  have  said,  "  If  once  the  divine  character  of 
Christ  is  admitted,  Christian  dpctrine" — including  that  of 
His  manhood  as  well — "exhibits  the  precision  and  clear- 
ness of  algebra,  so  that  we  are  struck  with  admiration  of 
its  scientific  connection  and  unity." 

It  is  no  small  source  of  satisfaction  that  faith  in  His 
Godhood  seems  to  be  fully  sustained  by  Holy  Writ.  Our 
Lord  Himself  sanctions  it  and  the  apostles  confirm  it.  It 
is  true  that  the  title  "  Son  of  Man  "  is  that  by  which  He 
specifically  designates  Himself.  In  the  Gospels  it  occurs 
sixty  times,  once  in  the  Acts,  and  never  in  the  Epistles. 
But  why  does  He  not  call  Himself  "  Son  of  Joseph,"  or 
"Son  of  Mary,"  or  "Son  of  Israel"?  A  merely  human 
being  desiring  to  impose  on  the  world  might  insist  on  his 
divinity,  but  he  would  hardly  feel  it  needful  to  remind  the 
people  of  his  humanity.  That  would  be  the  first  thing 
credited.  But  Jesus  seems  to  be  conscious  of  a  nature 
broader  and  grander  than  this  term  describes,  and  is  ap- 
prehensive that  His  manifest  Godhood  will  obscure  His 
manhood,  and  consequently  He  draws  attention  specially 
to  the  latter.  But  in  doing  so  He  rejects  the  limitations 
of  tribe,  family,  and  nation,  and  adopts  the  title  "  Son  of 
Man,"  as  expressive  of  His  identity  with  the  race  and  of 
His  representative  character  and  mission.     He  does  not, 


CHRIST'S   GODHOOD.  199 

however,  ignore  His  divinity.  In  Matthew  xvi,  when  He 
inquires  of  His  disciples,  "  Whom  do  men  say  that  I,  the 
Son  of  Man,  am  ?  "  he  accepts  the  answer  of  Peter  as  cor- 
rect: "Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God." 
He  constantly  affirms  His  preexistence  (John  iii,  13;  vi, 
58;  viii  and  xvi);  He  claims  to  have  life  in  Himself,  and 
to  be  one  with  the  Father  (John  v,  2G;  x,  30,  38;  xvii), 
and,  moreover,  asserts  that  He  is  Himself  the  very  pres- 
ence of  the  Highest:  "He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen 
the  Father." 

These  startling  assumptions  appear  to  have  met  with  uni- 
form acceptance  in  the  apostolic  period.  In  the  Old  Tes- 
tament also  there  is  a  frequent  association  of  the  human 
with  the  divine.  The  marvelous  vision  seen  by  Ezekiel  of 
wheels  within  wheels,  of  the  living  creatures,  and  of  the 
sapphire  throne  above  the  firmament  of  crystal,  was  per- 
vaded with  this  union  throughout.  The  prevailing  form  of 
the  celestial  beings  was  that  of  man;  they  had  the  face  of 
a  man  in  conjunction  with  the  faces  of  a  lion,  eagle  and  ox; 
and  on  their  four  sides  were  seen  the  hands  of  a  man,  while 
"  upon  the  throne  was  the  likeness  as  the  appearance  of  a 
man  above  it."  Whatever  may  be  the  total  import  of 
such  pictures,  they  evidently  suggested  the  incarnation 
and  the  exaltation  of  the  Incarnate  One  to  supreme  do- 
minion. Such  hieroglyphical  intimations  must  have  pre- 
pared the  religious  world  for  the  reception  of  Christ's 
claims,  and  I  am  not,  therefore,  surprised  to  find  the 
apostles  advocating  them  very  earnestly.  In  the  epistles, 
especially  in  those  addressed  to  the  Philippians,  Colos- 
sians,  and  Ephesians,  the  Savior  is  presented  as  the  One 
Being  in  whom  all  things  in  grace,  in  redemption,  and  in 
glory  are  infolded.  He  is  exalted  as  the  source  of  all 
worlds  visible  and  invisible,  and  of  all  creatures,  earthly 
and  heavenly;  He  is  also  "head  over  all  things,"  "be- 
cause  in   Him   all  the   fullness   of  the  Godhead  dwells." 


200  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

"Henceforth  he  is  known  no  more  after  the  flesh";  and 
He  is  approached  in  prayer  and  praise  as  God  (Acts  vii, 
59;  Rev.  xxii,  20),  the  worship  by  which,  in  subsequent 
times,  according  to  Pliny  and  Eusebius,  the  disciples  were 
distinguished.  Nor  has  their  faith  failed  of  justification 
at  the  hands  of  philosophers,  who  are  not  fairly  charge- 
able either  with  the  credulity  of  superstition  or  the  weak- 
ness of  enthusiasm.  I  do  not  profess  to  interpret  Hegel, 
but  that  profound  thinker  evidently  means  to  teach  some- 
thing akin  to  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation 
when  in  his  Philosophy  of  History  he  says:  "Christ  has 
appeared  —  a  man  who  is  God  —  God  who  is  man;  and 
thereby  peace  and  reconciliation  have  accrued  to  the 
world."  To  this  he  adds,  "  The  appearance  of  the  Christian 
God  involves  further  its  being  unique  in  its  kind;  it  can 
occur  only  once."  And  Schelling,  claiming  that  the  in- 
carnation beginning  with  the  Savior  is  to  be  continued  in 
His  followers,  yet  insists  that  God  truly  manifested  Him- 
self first  in  Christ.  For,  as  another  German  has  testified, 
"  the  incarnation  was  complete  in  Him,  and  He  has  there- 
fore the  significance  of  a  personal  moral  creator  of  the 
world." 

If  anything  more  is  needed  to  confirm  this  sublime  doc- 
trine to  our  faith,  it  is  furnished  by  the  light  which  it 
sheds  on  the  otherwise  enigmatical  phases  of  our  religion. 
For  instance  it  shows  why,  as  Schelling  has  it,  "  the  chief 
matter  of  Christianity  is  Christ  Himself,  not  what  He 
said,  but  what  He  is,  what  He  did."  Were  He  only  man, 
it  would  ever  remain  a  mystery  why  the  apostles  should 
"  desire  to  know  nothing  but  Him,"  why  they  should  re- 
ject every  other  foundation,  why  they  should  magnify 
Him  as  the  "All  and  in  All"  to  the  race,  and  why  they 
should  exalt  Him  as  the  being  in  whom  supreme  trust 
should  be  reposed.  Yet  this  they  do  continually  and  un- 
hesitatingly, as  though  nothing  were  more  reasonable  and 


CHRIST   IS   CHRISTIANITY.  Jul 

nothing  more  natural.  When  discoursing  on  worship 
they  enthrone  Christ  as  its  glorious  object;  when  dealing 
with  sin  and  guilt  they  turn  to  Christ  as  atonement  and 
as  interceding  priest;  when  seeking  a  rule  of  conduct 
they  find  it  in  Christ's  teachings  and  example;  and  when 
feeling  after  signs  of  immortality  they  lay  hold  on  Christ's 
resurrection  both  as  the  pledge  of  its  certainty  and  the 
pattern  of  its  beauty.  He  is  presented  by  them  as  the 
"Bread  of  Life,"  as  the  "Water  of  Life,"  as  the  "Day- 
spring  from  on  High,"  as  the  "Morning  Star,"  as  the 
"Sun  of  Righteousness,"  as  the  "Light  of  the  World," 
as  the  "  Ransom,"  "  Mediator,"  "Advocate,"  "  Deliverer," 
as  the  "  Lord  of  Lords "  and  "  King  of  Kings,"  expres- 
sions and  descriptions  which  we  try  in  vain  to  reconcile 
with  creaturehood ;  but  which  when  divine  honors  are  as- 
scribed  to  His  name  we  can  understand,  and,  in  doing  so, 
clearly  perceive  why  the  disciples,  like  Zinzendorf,  "  made 
this  Supreme  Power  in  heaven  and  on  earth  the  only  theme 
they  announced,  taught  in  their  writings,  and  treated  at 
length." 

Moreover,  this  view  of  our  Lord's  nature  throws  light 
on  the  meaning  of  the  Cross.  An  old  chronicler  relates 
that  a  Jew  in  the  sixth  century  fled  for  refuge  from  night 
and  storm  to  an  abandoned  temple  of  Apollo.  But  at 
midnight  the  building  was  filled  with  ghastly,  gigantic 
shapes.  They  moved  to  and  fro  in  the  somber  darkness, 
taking  counsel  of  each  other,  and  relating  their  achieve- 
ments against  the  Christians.  These  were  the  shadows  of 
the  former  gods,  the  pagan  deities  whose  altars  had  been 
forsaken.  The  poor  Jew  trembled  as  he  beheld  them,  and 
in  his  despair,  hardly  knowing  what  he  did,  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross.  Before  its  sacred  and  mysterious  potency 
in  their  turn  the  demons  shuddered,  whirled  about  in 
maddened  fear,  and  hastily  vanished  in  the  gloom.  This, 
of  course,  is  but  a  fable;  and  yet  it  has  a  spiritual  count «t- 


202  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

part.  The  real  temple  seen  by  the  musty  scribe  is  the 
soul,  within  whose  sacred  but  polluted  courts  conscience, 
awe-stricken  at  the  foul  thoughts,  appetites  and  lusts 
which  revive  when  we  think  them  dead,  and  rage  when 
we  suppose  them  bound,  trembles  and  cries  for  swift  de- 
liverance. It  is  obtained  through  the  cross.  "When  that 
is  embraced,  when  it  is  sacred  to  the  soul,  then  the  sense 
of  sin  is  purged  away,  and  the  spectral  shapes  of  evil  are 
dispersed.  This  has  been  the  experience  of  millions.  But 
to  what  does  the  tragedy  of  Calvary  owe  this  wondrous 
power?  Nail  to  the  tree  the  body  of  a  man  —  only  a  man, 
though  the  best  and  purest  —  and  the  problem  is  un- 
solved. He  could  only  die  for  himself,  and  none  other; 
and  his  death  could  have  no  more  influence  than  that  of 
others  like  himself.  But  let  the  human  sacrifice  be  sancti- 
fied by  the  divine  presence,  let  it  be  the  earthly  expression 
of  God's  devotion  to  the  moral  order  of  the  universe  and 
to  the  redemption  of  the  guilty,  and  it  acquires  a  new 
meaning,  and  an  explicable  moral  force. 

Christ's  Divinity  also  accounts  for  His  exaltation  to 
the  right  hand  of  God,  justifies  the  worship  of  angels  and 
the  confidence  of  mankind.  It  makes  clear  His  right  to 
the  throne  of  the  universe,  and  enables  the  mind  to  under- 
stand why  He  is  exalted  in  providence,  in  grace,  and  in 
judgment.  It  is  the  unifying  truth  that  harmonizes  all 
other  teachings  of  Christianity  and  renders  the  entire 
system  symmetrical  and  complete.  And,  finally,  it  is  the 
truth  of  all  others  that  renders  the  obligation  of  the  sinner 
distinct  and  solemn.  In  dealing  with  Christ  he  is  dealing 
with  God.  It  is  not  a  mere  human  being  that  stands  at 
the  door  of  the  heart,  gently  pleading  for  admission.  He 
that  is  seeking  entrance,  who  has  been  seeking  through 
long,  weary  years,  and  to  whom  cold  ingratitude  has  re- 
peatedly said  "  to-morrow,"  is  not  a  mere  earth-born  crea- 
ture, but  the  Lord  of  all.     To  reject  Him  is  to  reject  God, 


PHIDIAS   THE   SCULPTOR.  Jo:; 

and  to  reject  God  is  to  accept  despair.  Then,  how  clear 
our  duty!  Were  He  but  a  man  we  might  reasonably 
pause,  question  His  claims,  and  hesitate  to  admit  Him  to 
the  inner  sanctuary  of  our  being;  but,  as  He  is  "  God 
over  all,  blessed  forevermore,"  every  obstacle  should  yield, 
every  hindrance  be  removed,  and  the  King  of  Glory  be 
welcomed  to  His  own.  Let  this  duty  be  performed.  Cry 
to  thy  soul:  "Lift  up  thy  heads,  O  ye  gates!  and  the 
King  of  glory  shall  enter  in;"  and  with  that  Divine  in- 
coming, righteousness  and  peace,  joy  and  hope,  yea, 
heaven  upon  earth,  shall  be  sweetly  realized. 

It  is  with  reluctance  that  I  bring  this  inquiry  to  a  close. 
The  portrait  drawn  is  too  faulty  and  imperfect  for  it  to 
afford  me  entire  satisfaction.  Yet  such  as  it  is  I  can  in- 
voke God's  blessing  on  it;  for  it  was  undertaken  in  His 
fear,  and,  however  inadequate,  is  in  accordance  with  His 
Word.  Tradition  records  many  interesting  stories  regard- 
ing the  magnificent  masterpiece  of  the  sculptor  Phidias. 
Out  of  the  solid  marble  he  shaped  a  wondrous  image  of 
the  mighty  Jupiter.  The  brow  of  the  god  was  so  noble, 
so  fate-deciding  seemed  "the  ambrosial  locks"  that  clus- 
tered round  it,  so  majestic  his  mien,  and  so  commanding 
his  presence,  that  they  who  beheld  the  work  of  the  artist 
were  lightened  of  care,  were  relieved  of  sorrow-,  and  were 
so  enchanted  that  they  were  willing  to  make  long  pilgrim- 
ages for  the  pleasure  of  viewing  it  again.  Among  other 
legends  is  found  one  of  surpassing  beauty  touching  the 
creator  of  this  famous  statue.  It  is  said  that  when  lie 
had  finished  his  labors  and  thoughtfully  contemplated 
the  result,  he  raised  his  hands  in  prayer  to  Jupiter  and 
sought  for  an  approving  sign  if  what  he  had  done  was 
acceptable  to  him.  The  "Thunderer"  replied.  As  Phid- 
ias stood  with  uplifted  hands  a  gleam  of  lightning  flashed 
suddenly  through  the  roof  of  the  temple,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment played  upon  the  sacred  floor.     Then  he   knew  his 


204  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

toil  had  not  been  in  vain.  Thus  do  I  meditate,  though 
not  with  the  exultant  satisfaction  of  the  sculptor,  tha  un- 
worthy counterpart  of  Christ  which  these  rude  words  of 
mine  have  fashioned.  I  know  the  likeness  is  sadly  inferior 
to  the  sublime  original;  yet  such  as  it  is,  I  implore  some 
token  that  it  is  not  displeasing  to  Him  whose  name  is  dear 
to  my  poor  heart,  and  will  be  so  forever.  And  if  from 
His  holy  throne  the  fire  that  descended  on  the  apostles 
when  Pentecost  was  fully  come  shall  rest  on  you,  my 
reader,  irradiating  the  temple  of  the  soul,  and  from  its 
altar  flash  in  flame  of  righteousness,  the  response  I  seek 
will  be  vouchsafed  and  my  reward  will  be  complete. 


SPIRITUALISM. 

"If  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neither  will  they  be 
persuaded,  though  one  rose  from  the  dead."  Luke  xci,  31. 

"  The  oracles  are  dumb ; 
No  voice  of  hideous  hum 
Runs  through  the  arched  roof  in  words  deceiving. 
Apollo  from  his  shrine 
Can  no  more  divine, 
With  hollow  shriek,  the  steep  of  Delphos  leaving. 
No  nightly  trance  or  breathed  spell 
Inspires  the  pale-eyed  priests  from  the  prophetic  cell." 

Milton. 

WHETHER  history  or  parable,  this  Scripture  inforces 
a  very  solemn  and  salutary  lesson.  Dives,  the  rep- 
resentative of  Godless  affluence,  when  reaping  the  fiery 
whirlwind  of  his  folly,  calls  on  Father  Abraham  to  miti- 
gate his  terrible  agony,  and  to  send  Lazarus,  if  not  to 
himself,  at  least  to  his  five  surviving  brothers,  that  they 
may  be  dissuaded  from  coming  to  the  place  of  torment. 
The  sufferer  is  reminded  that  they  who  live  on  earth  have 
Moses  and  the  prophets  for  their  guidance;  or,  in  other 
words,  enjoy  the  light  of  a  heavenly  revelation,  and  should 
give  heed  to  its  influence  and  instruction.  But  to  this  sug- 
gestion the  rich  man  replies:  "If  one  went  unto  them  from 
the  dead  they  would  repent."  He  seems  to  feel  that  a 
little  special  supernaturalism  judiciously  displayed  in  the 
interest  of  his  brethren,  a  few  ghosts  effectively  material- 
ized and  sent  from  the  spirit  realm,  would  arrest  attention 
and  would  necessarily  promote  reformation.  Spectral  ap- 
pearances, he  doubtless  thought,  would  overawe  and  alarm 
the  indifferent,  and  a  message  from  their  phantom  lips 

205 


206  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

would  decide  them  to  embrace  religion.  In  "  the  visions 
of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  on  men,"  had  not 
a  spirit  passed  before  the  face  of  Eliphaz,  the  Temanite, 
and  did  not  fear  come  on  him,  and  his  bones  shake,  as  the 
solemn  silence  was  broken  by  the  strange  voice  inquiring: 
"  Shall  mortal  man  be  more  just  than  God  ?  Shall  a  man 
be  more  pure  than  his  Maker?"  If  so,  why  might  not 
other  shadowy  messengers  be  sent  to  earth  with  profit, 
and  be  equally  successful  in  impressing  mortals  with  the 
reality  of  things  eternal  ?  Some  such  line  of  argument 
probably  occurred  to  Dives;  but  instead  of  its  soundness 
being  recognized  in  Hades,  he  is  answered:  "If  they  hear 
not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neither  will  they  be  persuaded 
though  one  rose  from  the  dead  ; "  words  that  express 
clearly  and  explicitly  the  absolute  sufficiency  of  the  In- 
spired Books  for  life  and  godliness. 

It  is,  however,  to  be  observed  that  the  Savior  in  this 
declaration  does  not  deny  the  possibility  of  the  dead  re- 
turning, under  certain  circumstances,  to  influence  the 
living;  neither  does  the  Bible  commit  itself  to  any  such 
denial.  Indeed,  its  stringent  laws  against  invoking  their 
presence,  and  its  wide-sweeping  condemnation  of  all  who 
attempt  to  bring  them  back,  or  who,  impelled  by  idle 
curiosity,  seek  intercourse  with  them,  seem  to  imply  that 
those  who  have  gone  before  may  revisit  and  minister  to 
friends  on  earth  under  conditions  determined  solely  by  the 
Almighty.  We  know  that  Moses  and  Elias  were  with 
Christ  on  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration,  and  that,  when 
He  arose  from  the  tomb,  many  of  the  saints  came  with 
Him,  and  were  seen  in  Jerusalem.  Moreover,  the  apostle 
Paul,  having  described  the  faith  of  God's  heroes,  assures 
the  Hebrews  that  they  are  surrounded  by  a  great  cloud  of 
witnesses,  evidently  referring  to  those  of  whom  he  has 
been  writing  so  eloquently,  and  who,  though  dead,  are 
thus  represented  as  feeling  an  interest  in  the  career  of  all 


SPIRIT   INFLUENCES.  207 

who  are  following  on  to  know  the  Lord.  Nor  is  it  alto- 
gether incredible  that  such  exalted  beings,  freed  from  the 
trammels  of  earthly  life,  should  sometimes  mingle  with 
mortals  whom  they  love,  and  who  are  yet  exposed  to  sin 
and  danger.  Why  may  not  the  mother,  through  the  misty 
veil  that  hides  the  seen  from  the  unseen,  find  a  way  to 
direct  the  footsteps  of  her  friendless  child?  Why  may 
not  lamented  dear  ones,  whose  visible  forms  have  crum- 
bled into  dust,  still  in  spirit  linger  with  us  here,  and, 
though  unrecognized,  assist  us  in  our  progress  to  the 
skies?  Of  course,  much  can  be  said  against  this  view, 
but  much,  also,  can  be  said  in  its  favor,  though  probably 
not  enough  on  either  side  to  establish  a  positive  convic- 
tion. Our  Savior,  in  the  parable,  gives  no  information  on 
the  subject.  He  neither  affirms  nor  denies,  just  as  He 
expresses  no  opinion  at  this  time  on  the  kindred  doctrine 
of  angelic  and  demoniac  influences.  On  this  latter  topic, 
however,  on  other  occasions  He  speaks  clearly;  and  from 
the  tenor  of  His  ministry,  as  well  as  from  the  testimony  of 
the  apostles,  we  learn  that  angels  and  devils  stream  into 
our  world,  and  bring  to  bear  on  humanity  the  beneficence 
of  heaven  or  the  maleficence  of  hell. 

Lavater,  as  cited  by  Kurtz,  declares  "  that  all  known 
material  elements  enter  into  the  composition  of  the  body, 
and  all  discernible  spiritual  faculties  manifest  themselves 
in  the  constitution  of  the  soul,  so  that  man  is  thus  neces- 
sarily related  to  the  visible  and  the  invisible,  to  all  things 
and  all  beings,  not  even  excepting  God  himself."  Con- 
stellations and  galaxies  transmit  their  fires  to  his  thought, 
and  magnetic  currents  from  earth  and  sky  flash  along  the 
nerve-wires  of  his  wondrous  organism.  Suns,  planets,  ami 
all  the  elemental  material  of  this  restless  globe,  are  held  in 
solution  in  his  blood  as  it  surges  on  its  ministry  of  life  and 
health.  Atmospheres  are  the  exhaustless  fountains  which 
slake  his  thirst,  that  support  him  with  their  might,  and 


208  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

that  carry  to  him  on  their  tireless  energies  the  beneficence 
of  remotest  spheres,  and  waft  from  him  the  asphyxia!  ma- 
laria which  perpetually  threatens  his  existence.  Man  is 
as  it  were  the  meeting-place  of  waters,  the  bay  toward 
which  all  tides,  physical  and  spiritual,  incline,  the  recipient 
and  exponent  of  the  universe,  the  exotery  of  its  esoterics, 
the  crown  of  its  greatness,  and  the  shekinah  of  its  glory. 
And  if,  therefore,  we  may  believe  with  Bulwer-Lytton  that, 
as  "millions  and  myriads"  of  lives  "dwell  in  the  rivers 
of  man's  blood,  and  inhabit  his  frame  as  he  inhabits  earth," 
so  "the  circumfluent,  infinite  and  boundless  impalpable 
which  we  call  space  "  must  be  "  filled  with  its  correspond- 
ing and  appropriate  life,"  "  creatures  of  surpassing  wis- 
dom, or  of  horrible  malignity,  some  of  whom  are  hostile  as 
fiends  to  men,  and  others  as  gentle  as  messengers  between 
earth  and  heaven,"  we  cannot  deny  the  possibility  of  what 
Swedenborg  taught,  and  what  unimpassioned  and  inexcita- 
ble  thousands  among  the  devout  have  credited,  "  that  man 
may  be  instructed  by  spirits  and  angels,  may  be  in  com- 
pany with  them,  and  converse  with  them  face  to  face." 
The  possibility  of  such  mysterious  intercourse  I  would  not 
for  a  moment  presume  to  question.  Man  being  what  he 
is,  and  the  universe  being  what  it  is,  I  think  this  commerce 
highly  probable,  and  it  may  be  necessary  to  explain  many 
things  in  our  personal  experience,  and  in  that  of  others, 
such  as  is  recorded  in  Owen's  FootfaMs  on  the  Boundaries 
of  Other  Worlds  and  Howitt's  History  of  the  Supernatu- 
ral. But  our  Savior,  in  the  parable  which  gives  character 
to  our  present  study,  does  not  touch  on  these  marvelous 
matters;  nor  does  it  come  within  the  scope  of  my  pro- 
posed inquiry  to  discuss  them.  He  passes  by  them  as  irrele- 
vant and  extraneous,  His  immediate  object  being  to  em- 
phasize the  practical  sufficiency  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
He  teaches  clearly  and  specifically  that,  having  God's 
Word,  the   race   has  everything  that  it   really  needs  for 


PLUTONIA   TEMPLES.  209 

moral  and  religious  guidance,  and  that  all  the  sleepers  in 
the  sepulcher,  and  all  the  shades  in  Hades,  could  they  by 
any  process  be  recalled  to  earth,  whatever  they  might  do 
for  human  comfort  and  human  progress  would  not  bring 
with  them  either  increase  of  knowledge  or  of  spiritual 
power.  This  is  my  own  conviction,  and  its  reasonableness 
will,  I  think,  appear  in  the  course  of  this  discussion. 

The  human  mind  has  not  always  been  favorably  dis- 
posed toward  so  conservative  a  belief.  From  time  imme- 
morial it  has  not  been  entirely  willing  that  God's  supreme 
wisdom  should  decide  how  far,  if  at  all,  the  spectral  world 
should  hold  communion  with  this  mundane  sphere;  nei- 
ther has  it  been  content  to  leave  unexplored  the  myste- 
rious continent,  which  He  has  veiled  from  mortal  sight, 
and  which  he  has  fortified  against  irreverent  curiosity. 
The  boundaries  of  the  undiscovered  country  have  repeat- 
edly been  trodden  by  restless  inquisitiveness,  anxious  to 
catch  the  sound  of  supernatural  footfalls,  and  to  learn 
from  spirit  tongues  what  shall  be  in  the  future  here,  or 
what  makes  up  the  wonders  of  the  never-changing  here- 
after. To  go  no  farther  back  than  the  palmy  days  of 
Greece,  we  meet  with  instances  innumerable  of  attempted 
intercourse  with  the  dead.  Among  the  people  of  that 
cultivated  nation,  temples,  called  Plutonia,  were  con- 
secrated to  this  object.  Within  their  walls  it  was 
professedly  maintained  between  the  souls  of  former  and 
existing  generations.  Rites  conducive  to  such  inter- 
change of  thought  and  influence  were  established  and 
scrupulously  observed;  but  by  what  theurgy,  sortilege,  or 
incantatory  hocus-pocus  the  deception  succeeded  as  it  did 
we  have  now  no  means  of  determining.  Maximus  Tyrius 
throws  a  little  light  on  the  ceremonies  connected  with 
Grecian  necromancy  where  he  writes:  "There  was  a  place 
near  Lake  Avernus  called  the  prophetic  cavern.  Persons 
were  in  attendance  there  who  called  up  ghosts.  Anyone 
14 


210  ISMS  OLD   AND   NEW. 

desiring  it  came  thither,  and,  having  killed  a  victim  and 
poured  out  libations,  summoned  whatever  ghost  he 
wanted.  The  ghost  came  very  faint  and  doubtful  to  the 
sight,  but  vocal  and  prophetic;  and,  having  answered  the 
questions,  went  off."  Considerable  sums  of  money  were 
also  spent  in  obtaining  the  spectral  ear,  and  the  profits  of 
those  who  engaged  in  the  business  —  the  professional  go- 
betweens —  were  simply  enormous.  In  Israel  this  species 
of  superstition  was  not  unpracticed.  Saul  sought  an  in- 
terview with  the  shade  of  Samuel;  and  some  writers, 
among  whom  may  be  named  Sir  Henry  More,  believe  that 
his  desire  was  really  gratified.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  the 
rigid  enactments  against  every  kind  of  divination  go  to 
prove  how  strong  a  hold  it  had  upon  certain  classes,  and 
how  difficult  it  was  to  convince  them  of  its  sinfulness  and 
folly. 

One  of  the  poets  has  the  thought: 

"  If  ancestry  can  be  in  aught  believed, 
Descending  spirits  have  conversed  with  man 
And  told  him  secrets  of  the  world  unknown." 

Unfortunately  they  have  been  too  implicitly  credited,  be- 
yond even  the  warrant  of  facts,  and  hence  many  of  our 
contemporaries  clamor  at  the  gates  of  the  Invisible  for 
fresh  communications  and  new  revelations.  Unwilling  to 
receive  merely  what  graciously  may  be  conferred,  they 
imagine  they  have  the  power  to  wring  from  spirit-hearts 
the  secret  of  their  dwelling-place.  And  this,  too,  in  an 
age  that  assumes  to  be  remarkably  free  from  bondage  to 
superstition;  and  what  is  even  more  singular,  they  who 
most  greedily  swallow  every  marvelous  story  about  ghosts 
are  least  disposed  to  recognize  the  divine  origin  of  the 
Bible.  In  the  name  of  reason  they  reject  a  supernatural- 
ly  given  book,  and  at  the  next  moment,  with  a  credulity 
becoming  a  Weddah  of  Ceylon,  they  surrender  their 
judgment  captive  to  some  contemptible  school  of  magic. 


MODERN   NECROMANCY.  211 

As  Dr.  Carpenter  says,  "  The  greatest  skeptics  in  religion 
are  the  most  credulous  in  other  matters."  They  are  gen- 
erally like  the  lady  to  whom  he  refers,  ready  to  receive 
anything  that  is  not  in  the  Bible.  Not  a  few  among  our 
Roman  Catholic  friends  believe  that  they  are  authorized 
to  pray  to  the  sainted  dead,  and  that  the  Virgin  Mary  is 
especially  accessible  to  their  supplications.  I  have  great 
respect  for  many  who  cherish  this  conviction;  but,  after  all, . 
the  line  that  separates  it  from  ancient  necromancy  is  very 
indistinct.  It  is  the  old  black  art  baptised  and  rechris- 
tened,  in  which  spiritual  solicitations  are  substituted  for 
spells  and  sorceries.  That  departed  friends  may  be  made 
by  God  the  medium  of  blessings  to  the  living  is  not  the 
objectionable  feature  of  the  doctrine,  for  the  possibility  of 
this  is  candidly  conceded;  it  is  the  underlying  assumption 
that  mortal  entreaties  can  determine  the  movements  of 
immortal  beings,  causing  them  to  reappear  among  the 
faithful,  that  is  so  repugnant  to  the  higher  reason,  and 
irreconcilable  with  the  Inspired  Word.  It  makes  the  dead 
servants  to  the  living.  It  converts  the  Virgin  into  a  very 
restless,  busy  soul,  wandering  from  place  to  place  for  the 
sake  of  rewarding  her  devotees  with  a  sight  of  her  pale 
and  hazy  person;  it  changes  the  beatified  into  phantom 
tramps,  peripatetic  shades,  spectral  gossips,  whose  earthly 
peregrinations  are  controlled  exclusively  by  the  church 
and  her  members,  and  for  their  benefit. 

Spiritualism  is  the  latest  and  most  pronounced  develop- 
ment of  this  morbid  and  mortuary  superstition.  Its  multi- 
plied adherents  regard  its  rejection  by  Christians,  who 
believe  in  the  supernatural,  as  inexplicable  and  indefensi- 
ble. They  affect  not  to  understand  the  reasons  which 
influence  these  disciples,  and  they  generally  fail  to  account 
fairly  for  their  alleged  inconsistency.  If  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  speak  for  these  misapprehended,  not  to  say 
maligned,  skeptics,  I  venture  the  assertion  that  they  are 


212  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

not  actuated  by  doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  the  supernatu- 
ral, and  neither  are  they  swayed  by  devotion  to  mere 
materialistic  theories.  The  wonderful  results  which  have 
been  brought  about  in  the  name  of  this  Ism  they  are  not 
disposed  to  ignore;  they  are  willing  to  admit  that  they 
cannot  explain  them  all  by  laws  or  forces  fully  known 
at  present;  but  they  insist  that  the  explanations  of  those 
who  constantly  resort  to  the  marvelous  are  equally  unsub- 
stantial and  unsatisfactory.  They  likewise  object  to  this 
apparitional  hypothesis,  that  it  is  an  endeavor  to  organize 
a  sect  or  religion,  a  science  or  philosophy,  on  a  principle 
condemned  alike  by  Scripture  and  the  sober  judgment  of 
mankind.  The  principle,  if  in  reality  it  deserves  the  name, 
is  that  human  action  is  only  the  reflex  of  spiritual  action, 
and  that  by  a  species  of  legerdemain  and  of  cheap  wizard- 
ry the  relation  which  the  one  sustains  to  the  other  can  be 
ascertained,  and  the  dead  be  invoked  and  governed  by 
shrewd  manipulators  in  the  interests  of  the  living.  Chris- 
tians cannot  but  look  on  such  a  system  as  essentially 
deceptive,  as  a  kind  of  charlatanism,  as  the  residuum  of 
former  attempts  at  worthless  magic,  and  as  the  black  art 
scantily  disguised  and  slightly  modernized.  As  a  philoso- 
phy they  find  it  proclaiming  the  crudest  metaphysics,  con- 
sisting of  cloudy  notions  and  easily  corrigible  errors;  as  a 
science  they  perceive  that  it  is  little  better  than  a  farrago 
of  ghoulish  stories,  accepted  on  the  slimmest  evidence,  and 
wrought  out  fancifully  and  vaguely;  and  as  a  religion  it  is 
to  them  a  mixture  of  puerility  and  stolidity,  a  superficial, 
superfluous  and  superstitious  sjDeculation.  To  embody 
their  criticisms  in  the  form  of  propositions,  they  maintain, 
what  I  shall  attempt  to  make  good, — 

First,  That  the  alleged  marvels  of  Spiritualism  are 
un verifiable,  and,  therefore,  are  unentitled  to  confidence. 

Second,    That  the  so-called  revelations  of  Spiritualism 


ANCIENT   WONDERS.  213 

are  unimportant,  and,  therefore,  arc  undeserving  of  con- 
sideration. 

Third,  That  the  practical  bearings  of  Spiritualism  are 
unbeneficial,  and,  therefore,  are  unworthy  of  countenance. 

In  discussing  the  first  of  these  propositions,  let  it  nol 
be  forgotten  that  the  extraordinary  occurrences  which  dis- 
tinguish this  phantasmal  Ism  are  not  without  parallels  in 
the  past.  They  are  not  new.  Many  of  them  were  wit- 
nessed in  other  ages,  and  have  been  chronicled  for  our 
instruction.  According  to  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  as 
quoted  by  Mr.  D.  D.  Home,  the  ancients  employed  a  small 
table  for  purposes  of  divination;  and  Planchettes,  witli 
their  attendant  phenomena,  are  no  novelty  among  the 
Chinese.  The  reported  transfiguration  of  Imblichus  was 
just  as  wonderful  and  just  as  credible  as  modern  mate- 
rializations. Among  the  Greeks  and  Romans  the  black 
art  was  surrounded  with  what  appeared  to  the  credu- 
lous miraculous  attestations  ;  and  even  at  this  remote 
period  we  find  it  difficult  to  account  for  them  on  any  other 
hypothesis.  And  yet,  thoughtful  men  who  lived  in  those 
times  did  not  hesitate  to  ascribe  them  to  fraud  and  trick- 
ery, or  to  natural  means,  the  secret  of  which  was  confined 
to  a  few  initiated  individuals.  Juvenal  satirized  all  super- 
human communications,  and  argued  that  belief  in  their 
reality  was  really  due  to  ignorance  of  the  nervous  princi- 
ple, which  enabled  the  practiced  fortune-teller  to  gain  a 
knowledge  of  the  thought  in  the  mind  of  those  who  con- 
sulted him.  Horace  ridiculed  those  who  gave  heed  to 
spiritual  manifestations,  and  characterized  them  as  diseased 
and  fanatical.  The  Cumrean  sibyl  tells  the  Trojan  ./Enrns 
as  much  about  his  family  as  any  modern  medium  could; 
and  from  the  shade  of  his  father,  Anchises,  he  receives 
responses  as  remarkable  as  any  that  have  ever  purported 
to  come  from  the  dead  in  our  day;  and  yet  the  poet 
Virgil,  who  describes  it  all3  does  not  seem  to  have  confi- 


214  ISMS  OLD   AND   NEW. 

dence  in  this  kind  of  supernaturalism ;  for  he  calls  the 
maiden  possessed  of  prophetic  frenzy  "  deranged  in  intel- 
lect." Pliny,  the  naturalist,  is  also  instructive  on  these 
points,  for,  while  he  admits  some  shade  of  truth  in  the 
mystic  art,  he  attributes  its  phenomena  mainly  to  physical 
causes.  At  last  even  the  common  people  abandoned 
pagan  temple  and  necromancer's  cavern,  satisfied  that, 
while  they  could  not  explain  the  strange  things  enacted, 
there  was  more  of  imposture  connected  with  them  than 
could  be  reconciled  with  their  superhuman  claims.  Nearer 
to  our  own  times  we  have  the  witchcraft  craze,  which  was 
attended  by  marvels,  traceable,  according  to  the  testimony 
of  such  men  as  Lord  Bacon,  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  Bishop 
Jewell  and  Addison  to  occult  agencies.  Among  the  won- 
ders that  marked  this  excitement  we  have  unaccountable 
movements  of  various  objects,  such  as  chests,  beds,  and 
smaller  articles  ;  rappings,  scratchings,  and  drummings; 
sounds  as  of  steps  on  the  floor,  or  of  clattering  chairs  and 
stools,  and  the  transportation  of  possessed  persons,  sup- 
posed to  be  on  their  way  to  demoniacal  festivities.  Igno- 
rant people  and  people  of  small  mental  capacity  were 
suddenly  qualified  to  speak  with  grace  and  intelligence; 
others  exhibited  mysterious  knowledge,  similar  to  that 
which  is  often  met  with  in  modern  clairvoyants;  and  yet 
others  confessed  to  having  seen  specters  with  their  eyes 
shut  as  well  as  open.  Fuller  information  than  can  be 
given  here  on  this  interesting  subject  may  be  obtained 
from  Lecky's  History  of  Rationalism,  Mather's  Magna- 
Ha,  Chamberline's Stone-throioing  Devil,  Bancroft's  United 
States,  and  from  a  curious  book  published  in  1852,  entitled 
To  Daimonion.  That  this  entire  movement  was  marked 
by  astounding  events  no  one  familiar  with  it  will  deny, 
but  that  it  can  only  be  explained  by  recourse  to  the  super- 
natural very  few  will  admit.  Self-deception,  nervous  dis- 
order, the  operation  of  unknown  physical  forces,  even  a 


SPIRITUALISTIC   CHICANERY.  215 

measure  of  fraud,  can  more  readily  be  believed  than  that. 
There  is  something  so  inherently  incredible  in  the  supposi- 
tion that  all  these  eccentric  and  useless  occurrences  were 
the  work  of  devils  or  of  ghosts  that  the  mind  hesitates  to 
give  it  entertainment.  And  if  it  is  obliged  to  reject  such 
an  account  as  untenable,  is  it  not  reasonable  to  conclude 
that  similar  wonders  in  our  own  day  may  be  explicable  on 
some  other  hypothesis  than  that  of  spirit  agency  ? 

That  such  an  origin  is  at  least  unverifiable  is  proven 
by  the  impostures  which  continually  are  being  perpetrated 
in  the  name  of  this  Ism.  Even  the  very  elect  are  de- 
ceived. The  trickery  employed  is  so  cunningly  devised 
and  cleverly  executed  that  the  most  devout  sympathizers 
hardly  know  how  to  separate  the  wheat  from  the  chaff. 
The  materializations  which  took  place  in  Philadelphia  some 
years  since  will  readily  be  recalled.  Hands  which  shone 
like  phosphorus  appeared,  and  did  not  seem  to  be  attached 
to  any  body;  and  the  alleged  spirit  who  came  most  fre- 
quently from  the  cabinet  was  clothed  in  shining  raiment 
that  reminded  Mr.  Owen  of  the  Savior's  transfiguration. 
Before  all  eyes  this  phantom  faded  away,  or  was  seen  to 
float  in  the  air.  During  many  sittings  Mr.  Owen  and  Dr. 
Childs  applied  every  test  to  determine  the  real  character 
of  the  phenomenon.  Yet  this  most  remarkable  Katie 
King  affair  turned  out  to  be  a  fraud.  The  gentlemen  re- 
ferred to  admitted  the  deception,  and  when  the  means 
were  produced  by  which  it  was  effected  they  were  found 
to  be  very  simple.  In  1844  a  similar  exposure  took  place 
in  London.  A  clairvoyant  from  Paris,  called  Alexis,  car- 
ried on  his  trade  for  a  little  time  with  singular  success, 
until  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  Drs.  Carpenter  and  Forbes, 
who  penetrated  his  wiles  and  revealed  his  occult  arts. 
The  former  gentleman  has  contributed  considerable  in- 
formation regarding  the  methods  by  which  the  public  are 
gulled  and  cheated,  and  what  he  has  written  in  Fmser's 


21G  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

Magazine  (February  and  March,  1877)  and  in  his  Mental 
Physiology  is  worthy  serious  consideration.  Mr.  D.  D, 
Home,  himself  a  Spiritualist,  has  also  rendered  good  ser- 
vice in  exposing  the  clever  manoeuvres  of  Machiavelian 
prophets,  who  in  a  peculiar  sense  profess  to  stand  "  be- 
tween the  living  and  the  dead."  In  his  valuable  work  en- 
titled Lights  and  Shadows  of  Spiritualism  he  expresses 
the  liveliest  contempt  for  seances  held  in  the  dark,  for 
"materializations,"  "cabinet"  jugglery,  and  other  profane 
"manifestations."  He  relates  many  instances  of  decep- 
tion, and  among  them  one  that  shows  the  extreme  cre- 
dulity of  our  modern  wonder-monger.  It  seems  he  was 
present  when  an  adept  held  up  a  mask  at  the  window  of  a 
cabinet.  "  I  called,"  he  says,  "  the  attention  of  an  ardent 
Spiritualist  beside  me  to  the  empty  and  eyeless  sockets. 
His  reply  came  promptly  and  with  a  certain  degree  of 
triumph:  'The  dear  spirits  have  not  had  time  to  mate- 
rialize the  eyes.'"  There's  simplicity  for  you,  ingenuous 
faith,  and  guileless  trust!  Can  it  be  that  we  are  to  be 
censured  for  not  receiving  the  testimony  of  individuals 
who  thus  invite  imposture,  and  who  seem  utterly  unfitted 
to  discriminate  between  truth  and  error?  These  dreary 
illustrations  of  folly  I  have  no  desire  to  multiply,  and 
consequently  I  will  not  refer  to  the  familiar  instances  of 
mendacious  empiricism  associated  with  the  Davenports, 
Sunderlands,  and  Maxwells.  The  examples  given  are  all- 
sufficient  to  make  good  the  position  that  we  cannot  hope 
to  prove  the  supernatural  source  of  any  spiritualistic  mar- 
vels when  so  many  of  them  are  impostures.  If  there  are 
any  true  they  are  so  much  like  the  counterfeit  that  even 
experts  cannot  with  certainty  distinguish  the  one  from 
the  other,  and  novices  may  therefore  be  excused  if  they 
reject  them  all  as  alike  unverifiable. 

According  to  the  London  Spiritualist  (March  2,  1877), 
Mr.  W.  Stainton  Moses  criticised  Spiritualism,  in  which 


COUNTERFEITS   EXPOSED.  217 

he  is  a  firm  believer,  in  these  terms:  ".It  does  very  little 
in  the  way  of  scientific  verification.  Moreover,  exoteric 
Spiritualism  is,  to  a  large  extent,  devoted  to  presumed 
communion  with  personal  friends,  or  to  the  gratification 
of  curiosity,  or  to  a  mere  evolution  of  marvels.  .  .  .  Spirit- 
ualists start  with  a  fallacy,  namely,  that  all  phenomena  are 
caused  by  the  action  of  departed  human  spirits.  They 
have  not  looked  into  the  powers  of  the  human  spirit;  they 
do  not  know  the  extent  to  which  spirit  acts,  how  far  it 
reaches,  what  it  underlies."  This  is  precisely  the  weak- 
ness of  the  whole  system.  It  takes  for  granted  that  hu- 
man agency  is  inadequate,  and  yet  it  has  no  just  measure- 
ment of  what  such  agency  can  accomplish.  Most  of  the 
startling  effects  produced  by  its  adherents  have  been  dupli- 
cated by  skillful  persons  who  disavow  all  connection  with 
the  preternatural.  A  remarkable  illustration  of  this  was 
furnished  recently  by  Rev.  Arthur  A.  Waite,  who,  having 
been  a  medium,  claimed  that  he  would  duplicate  any  feat 
that  the  friends  of  this  Ism  could  succeed  in  accomplish- 
ing. His  challenge  was  accepted,  and  the  trial  came  off 
in  Tremont  Temple,  Boston.  President  Washburn  gave 
a  very  interesting  account  of  the  contest  in  the  Indept  int- 
ent, and  from  it  we  learn  that  Mr.  Waite  met  the  medium 
and  actually  repeated  and  explained  every  one  of  his 
tricks,  and  that  his  adversary  was  compelled  to  retreat 
in  confusion. 

Now,  I  am  persuaded  by  what  was  done  by  Mr.  Waite 
at  Tremont  Temple  that  an  inventive  and  skilled  presti- 
digitateur,  such  as  Robert  Houdin,  could  with  a  little 
study  re-enact  the  mysteries  that  perplexed  the  involved 
intellect  of  Joseph  Cook,  or  the  other  misty  marvels  which 
have  excited  so  much  comment  of  late  among  the  savants 
of  Leipsic.  As  for  the  simpler  and  more  commonplace 
wonders,  they  have  been  repeated  so  frequently  that  they 
have  ceased  to  attract  attention,  and  are  readily  under- 


218  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

stood  by  the  merest  tyro.  For  instance,  no  one  now  is 
startled  by  the  writing  phenomenon,  in  which  the  medium 
reads  what  is  being  written  with  the  point  of  the  pen  en- 
tirely concealed  from  his  sight.  This  performance  once 
occasioned  considerable  surprise,  but  it  does  so  no  longer; 
for  it  is  not  difficult  to  explain.  The  top  of  the  pen  is  not 
hidden,  and  the  educated  eye,  following  its  motions,  can 
tell  what  letters  the  point  is  forming.  Mind-reading  also 
has  lost  its  marvelous  aspect  since  such  demonstrators  as 
Mr.  Browne  have  illustrated  how  it  is  done.  In  the  case 
of  this  well-known  lecturer,  he  will  think  of  an  object  in 
any  place  you  may  think  of  it;  he  will  lead  you  to  the 
spot  where  you  have  concealed  any  article,  and  he  will 
follow  the  course  of  a  watch  through  half  a  dozen  hands 
to  the  right  person.  If  he  can  do  so  without  ghosts,  who 
shall  say  that  ghosts  are  ever  necessary  ? 

Dr.  Carpenter  tells  us  that  many  persons  agree  in  stat- 
ing that  a  Mr.  Home  was  seen  sailing  in  the  air  out  of  one 
window  and  in  at  another;  and  that  a  Mrs.  Guppy  was 
conveyed  in  a  trance  through  the  air  from  Highbury  Park 
to  Lambs'  Conduit  street.  Here,  assuredly,  we  have  a 
miracle  that  natural  causes  cannot  explain  !  So  it  would 
seem.  Yet,  admitting  that  the  feat  was  really  accom- 
plished, we  learn  from  Madam  Blavatsky,  in  Is  is  Un- 
veiled (vol.  i,  p.  495),  that  levitation  can  be  produced 
without  the  interposition  of  spirit  agencies.  She  says  the 
fakir  effects  it  by  the  power  of  his  aspiration  and  will. 
"  So  does  the  priest  of  Siam,  when,  in  the  sacred  pagoda, 
he  mounts  fifty  feet  in  the  air  with  taper  in  hand  and  flits 
from  idol  to  idol,  lighting  up  the  niches,  self-supported, 
and  stepping  as  confidently  as  though  he  were  upon  solid 
ground.  .  .  .The  officers  of  the  Russian  squadron  in 
Japanese  waters  relate  the  fact  that,  besides  many  other 
marvels,  they  saw  jugglers  walk  in  mid-air  from  tree-top 
to  tree-top  without  the  slightest  support."     Of  course  I 


MIND   AND   MATTER.  219 

do  not  know  how  this  is  done,  but  it  is  clear  that  it  does 
not  necessarily  involve  the  supernatural.  I  might  refer 
to  other  wonders,  but  it  would  be  only  to  match  them 
with  others  which  the  ingenuity  of  man  has  paralleled. 
These  are  certainly  sufficient  to  indicate  that  human  re- 
sources transcend  the  limits  placed  on  them  by  Spiritualists, 
and  that,  were  they  understood,  most  of  these  mysteries 
would  be  cleared  up  entirely.  We  know  that  mind  acts  on 
mind  sometimes  without  the  medium  of  the  body;  and  it  is 
not  improbable  that  mind  also  can  act  directly  upon  matter, 
as  has  recently  been  maintained  in  England  and  Ger- 
many, thus  making  it  subject  to  the  supremacy  of  unfet- 
tered volition.  As  a  German  scientist  has  surmised,  most 
likely  there  are  undiscovered  properties  of  matter,  and 
that  many  of  these  phenomena  may  be  the  result  of  their 
activities,  or,  as  Joseph  Cook  argued,  of  an  unknown 
force,  called  the  psychic  force,  which  asserts  itself  under 
peculiar  conditions.  Who  knows  ?  We  concede  our  ig- 
norance; but  as  long  as  we  see  spiritualistic  marvels 
duplicated,  and  as  long  as  the  probability  is  as  strong  as 
it  is  that  there  are  resources  in  humanity  adequate  to  their 
production,  we  shall  feel  that  their  claim  to  supernatural 
origin  is  as  yet  unverified. 

Nor  is  this  conclusion  unreasonable.  When  Descartes, 
long  before  the  triumphs  of  this  materialistic  age,  wrote 
these  memorable  sentences:  "The  experience  which  I 
have  in  physics  teaches  me  that  it  is  possible  to  arrive  at 
a  knowledge  of  many  things  which  will  be  very  useful  to 
life;  and  that  we  may  yet  discover  methods  by  which 
man,  comprehending  the  force  and  the  action  of  fire, 
water,  air,  stars,  skies,  and  all  the  other  bodies  which  en- 
viron us,  as  distinctly  as  we  comprehend  the  different 
trades  of  our  artisans,  shall  be  able  to  employ  them  in  the 
same  fashion  for  all  the  uses  to  which  they  are  appropri- 
ate, and  thus  shall  render  himself  master  and  possessor  of 


220  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

nature,"  he  seems  to  have  anticipated  a  deeper  insight 
into  the  heart  of  things  than  had  been  attained  in  his  day. 
His  prophecy  has  been  more  than  fulfilled;  and  yet  even 
now  those  who  are  most  profoundly  versed  in  science  will, 
to  adopt  the  subsequent  words  of  Descartes,  "confess 
that  all  they  know  is  almost  nothing  in  comparison  with 
what  remains  to  be  known."  No  statement  more  fully 
commands,  or  more  readily  receives,  assent  than  this. 
We  are  all  prompt  enough  to  adopt  it;  and  yet  when  we 
are  brought  face  to  face  with  some  inexplicable  sleight-of- 
hand  performance,  it  is  expected  that  we  shall  immedi- 
ately set  up  the  cry  of  "  ghost,  ghost  ! "  Now  I  see  no 
necessity  for  any  such  thing.  The  telegraph,  the  phono- 
graph, the  microphone,  the  telephone,  and  a  score  of 
other  inventions,  remind  us  that  we  have  only  crossed  the 
threshold  of  nature,  and  that  there  are  deep  hidden  in  its 
courts  secrets  as  extraordinary  as  any  that  have  been  con- 
quered, and  which  in  time  must  yield  their  treasures. 
Until  we  have  carried  our  explorations  much  farther  than 
we  have  at  present,  and  have  fixed  more  definitely  the 
boundaries  of  the  natural,  I  for  one  will  not  abandon  my 
firm  conviction  that  neither  demons  nor  ghosts,  angels  nor 
devils,  are  necessary  to  account  for  the  strange  signs 
which  are  paraded  in  the  name  of  a  magic-loving  hy- 
pothesis. 

Nor  is  our  confidence  strengthened  in  the  super-mun- 
dane character  of  this  Ism  when  we  judge  it  by  its  reve- 
lations. We  have  said  that  they  are  unimportant;  they  are 
satisfactory  neither  to  skeptics  nor  believers.  Blavatsky 
admits  that  "The  great  majority  of  spiritual  communica- 
tions are  calculated  to  disgust  investigators  of  even  mod- 
erate intelligence.  Even  when  genuine  they  are  trivial, 
commonplace,  and  often  vulgar.  During  the  past  twenty 
years  we  have  received,  through  various  mediums,  mes- 
sages purporting  to  be  from  Shakspeare,  Byron,  Franklin, 


THE   GHOST   OF    PERICLES.  221 

Peter  the  Great,  Napoleon  and  Josephine,  and  even  from 
Voltaire.  The  general  impression  made  upon  us  was  that 
the  French  conqueror  and  his  consort  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  how  to  spell  words  correctly;  Shakspeare  and 
Byron  had  become  chronic  inebriates,  and  Voltaire  had 
turned  an  imbecile."  Mr.  Home  gravely  relates  various 
stories  concerning  the  subjects  which  engage  the  atten- 
tion of  super-mundane  beings,  and  which  are  not  of  a  very 
exalted  character.  He  says  that  the  shade  of  an  old  lady 
in  gray  silk  complained  to  a  medium  that  a  coffin  had  been 
placed  upon  the  top  of  the  one  which  contained  her  mortal 
remains.  This  weighty  affair  seems  to  have  occasioned 
her  great  solicitude.  He  also  pathetically  tells  how  a  little 
phantom  girl,  Stella,  comforted  her  mother  by  writing  her 
own  name  on  her  boots,  "the  light  summer  ones."  What 
consolation  there  may  have  been  to  the  afflicted  parent  in 
this  boot-marking  performance  I  cannot  perceive,  but  to 
my  way  of  thinking  it  is  absolutely  grotesque.  It  would 
seem  from  such  cases  that  death  makes  sad  havoc  with 
common  sense,  and  that  it  leads  the  departed  to  do  what 
they  never  would  have  undertaken  when  in  the  flesh.  Dr. 
Felton,  once  president  of  Harvard,  in  his  Lowell  Institute 
Lectures,  having  written  about  Pericles,  says  he  invoked 
his  ghost  in  a  Boston  circle,  and  that  the  famous  Greek 
favored  him  by  taking  possession  of  the  medium.  "I  put 
to  him  a  series  of  questions  about  Athens  in  his  time;  but 
he  had  not  only  lost  the  knowledge  of  all  that  he  had  ever 
done  during  the  forty  years  of  his  administration,  but  he 
had  even  forgotten  his  mother  tongue.  I  could  only  ex- 
claim with  Hamlet:  'Alas!  poor  ghost!'  and  turn  again 
to  my  books."  Gerald  Massey,  in  his  tractate  on  this  sub- 
ject, does  not  give  a  very  encouraging  view  of  these  reve- 
lations. He  writes:  "A  large  number  of  impostors  have 
left  our  world  to  go  somewhere,  and  possibly  they  still  find 
us  more  easily  imposed  on  than  their  new  acquaintance, 


222  ISMS  OLD   AtfD   NEW. 

who  are  able  to  see  through  them,  whereas  we  are  so  often 
left  in  the  dark."  "The  spirits  can  say  what  they  like, 
assume  to  be  what  they  please."  If  we  can  rely  on  the 
testimony  of  this  author,  we  can  never  be  sure  that  the 
so-called  phantom  that  addresses  us  is  not  an  impostor, 
and  even  when  it  claims  to  be  mother,  daughter,  friend, 
it  may  be  willfully  misleading  us.  Such  communications, 
then,  must  be  absolutely  worthless.  Gerald  Massey  also 
says  that  "there  is  a  mind-realm  in  the  invisible  world, 
and  that  the  ignorant  and  trifling  may  return  to  delude." 
On  this  point  Mr.  Wallace,  the  scientist  to  whom  I  have 
referred  in  a  previous  discourse,  has  written  some  note- 
worthy words.  In  The  Fortnightly  Revieio,  during  the 
summer  of  1874,  he  published  a  very  able  paper,  from 
which  we  give  a  few  extracts:  "Many  scientific  men  deny 
the  spiritual  source  of  the  manifestations  on  the  ground 
that  real,  genuine  spirits  might  reasonably  be  supposed 
not  to  indulge  in  the  commonplace  trivialities  which  do  un- 
doubtedly form  the  staple  of  ordinary  spiritual  communi- 
cations. .  .  .  And  if  a  very  large  majority  of  those  who 
daily  depart  this  life  are  persons  addicted  to  twaddle, 
persons  Avho  spend  most  of  their  time  in  low  or  trivial 
pursuits,  persons  whose  pleasures  are  sensual  rather  than 
intellectual,  whence  is  to  come  the  transforming  power 
which  is  suddenly,  at  the  mere  throwing  off  of  the  physical 
body,  to  change  these  into  beings  able  to  appreciate  and 
delight  in  high  intellectual  pursuits?"  He  says  such  a 
change  would  be  a  miracle;  but  are  not  the  very  commu- 
nications themselves  miracles?  If  the  first  is  incredible 
on  this  ground,  the  second  is  fairly  objectionable  for  the 
same  reason.  He  also  suggests  that  these  inferior  beings 
visit  earth  because  the  circles  are  generally  "a  miscellane- 
ous assemblage  of  believers  of  various  grades  and  tastes, 
but  most  in  search  of  an  evening's  amusement,  and  of 
skeptics  who  look  upon  all  the  others  as  either  fools  or 


SPIRITUALISTIC   COMMUNICATIONS.  223 

knaves";  and  he  argues  that  such  companies  are  not  apt 
to  attract  "the  more  elevated  and  refined  denizens  of  the 
higher  spheres."  If  he  is  correct  in  his  estimate  of  the 
phantoms  who  reveal  themselves,  as  wise  men  always  avoid 
such  people  when  living,  they  may  be  excused  if  they  pre- 
fer not  to  associate  with  them  after  they  are  dead.  But 
surely  Mr  Wallace  overlooks  the  fact  that,  in  a  large  num- 
ber of  instances,  the  spirits  of  Washington,  Poe,  Newton, 
Plato,  Cicero,  grace  the  seances  with  their  presence,  and 
that  any  of  them  may  be  invoked.  Should  he  say  that 
most  likely  they  are  counterfeited,  then  we  are  again  con- 
fronted with  deception,  and  under  such  circumstances  may 
well  choose  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  these  knavish  appa- 
ritions. One  other  passage  from  Mr.  Wallace:  "Nothing- 
is  more  common  than  for  religious  people  at  seances  to 
ask  questions  about  God  and  Christ.  In  reply  they  never 
get  more  than  opinions,  or  more  frequently  the  statement 
that  they,  the  spirits,  have  no  more  knowledge  of  these 
subjects  than  they  had  while  on  earth."  On  the  united 
testimony,  then,  of  these  disinterested  witnesses  we  may 
form  a  just  estimate  of  the  value  to  be  attached  to  spiritual 
communications.  They  are  not  reliable;  they  are  trivial; 
they  are  twaddle;  from  this  source  no  addition  has  been 
made  to  the  world's  stock  of  knowledge;  religiously,  sci- 
entifically, it  has  contributed  no  facts,  no  information,  no 
explanations, —  only  gossip,  garrulity,  guesses, —  and  we 
cannot  but  regard  such  revelations  as  eminently  unsatis- 
factory; indeed,  so  unsatisfactory  that  Pythagorean  silence 
would  be  preferable,  and  we  need  have  no  hesitation  in 
attributing  them  to  earth,  not  to  heaven. 

And  yet  many  intelligent  people  insist  on  the  impor- 
tance of  this  Ism  to  society.  It  is  urged  that  to  its  influ- 
ence may  be  traced  the  survival  of  faith  in  the  immortality 
of  the  soul.  Were  it  not  for  the  constant  intercourse 
between  this  world  and  the  beyond,  it  is  argued,  present 


224  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

Materialism  would  smother  and  extinguish  hope  of  a  future 
eternal  life.  I  am  of  the  opposite  opinion.  If  that  future 
existence  may  be  judged  by  the  disclosures  made  of  it  by 
its  representatives  —  if  we  are  to  judge  of  it  by  Bacon, 
who  is  credited  with  recent  essays  which  are  unworthy  a 
child,  or  by  Clay  and  Webster,  whose  speeches  from  the 
shades  would  not  have  secured  them  the  approval  of  their 
fellow-citizens  if  they  had  been  delivered  here  on  earth  — 
we  may  conclude,  with  Hamilton,  "  that  they  are  souls  in 
the  process  of  losing  their  mental  powers,  souls  fading 
away,  souls  destined  soon  to  become  extinct,"  and  under 
such  circumstances  certainly  eternity  is  not  attractive 
enough  to  elicit  desire  for  its  possession,  or  to  convince  a 
skeptic  that  it  is  deserving  any  effort  to  obtain.  It  rather 
makes  against  the  dignity  and  the  reality  of  immortality, 
and  so  rather  disposes  men  to  live  for  the  present  than  for 
the  future. 

Its  influence  is  further  objectionable  on  other  grounds. 
It  will  hardly  be  denied  that  in  many  extreme  cases  it  has 
weakened  domestic  ties,  sympathized  with  the  doctrine  of 
elective  affinity,  spiritual  marriages,  and  other  abomina- 
tions. Like  a  remorseless  cataract,  thundering  and  howl- 
ing, it  has  not  only  beat  violently  and  destructively  against 
many  sacred  interests  of  society,  but  it  has  enveloped 
others  in  mist,  and  blinded  many  eyes  to  the  distinction 
between  right  and  wrong.  An  intelligent  committee  of 
Spiritualists,  reporting  at  Cleveland,  1867,  on  certain  ex- 
cesses, said:  "Many,  if  not  all,  of  the  disorderly  manifes- 
tations your  committee  deem  wholly  unspiritual,  having 
their  origin  in  half-controlled  nervous  diseases,  poor  diges- 
tion, torpid  liver,  and  general  discord  of  mind  and  body." 
Very  likely  this  is  a  true  account  of  the  matter.  Bodily 
convulsions  also  distinguished  witchcraft.  Pliny,  Galen, 
and  others  of  the  ancients,  regarded  the  magical  art  as 
physically  injurious;    and  we  are   certainly  warranted  in 


SPIRITUALISM    AND    CHRISTIANITY.  225 

characterizing  a  system  as  pernicious  which  undermines 
bodily  vigor,  and  fatally  deranges  the  courses  of  nature 
I  admit  that  there  are  many  holding  to  Spiritualism  who 
are  not  involved  in  these  evils;  but  were  their  number 
greater,  still  the  terrible  effects  of  the  system  on  the  few 
may  well  justify  our  doubt  of  its  wholesomeness.  More- 
over, its  drift  is  undesirable  considered  from  another 
standpoint.  It  is  radically  anti-Christian.  By  many  of 
its  advocates  Christ  is  represented  simply  as  a  medium; 
the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures  is  denied,  and  its  essen- 
tial doctrines  rejected.  Perhaps  the  famous,  or  rather  the 
infamous,  Rutland  Convention  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  sam- 
ple of  this  antagonism.  Mr.  Wallace,  alluding  to  this 
solecism,  asks,  "  How  is  it  that  the  usual  orthodox  ideas 
of  heaven  are  never  confirmed  through  these  mediums? 
There  is  no  more  startling  a  radical  opposition  to  be 
found  among  the  diverse  religious  creeds  than  that  which 
the  majority  of  mediums  have  been  brought  up  in,  and 
the  doctrines  as  to  a  future  life  which  have  been  delivered 
through  them."  And  we  may  add  the  inquiry  :  How 
comes  it  that  they  so  continuously  deny  other  matters  of 
revelation,  such  as  the  fall  of  man,  the  incarnation  of 
Christ,  His  divinity,  the  efficacy  of  His  sacrifice,  and 
human  regeneration?  Their  influence  is  against  Chris- 
tianity. Why-?  If  it  is  suggested  that  the  spirits,  having 
been  admitted  into  eternity,  know  whereof  they  testily,  I 
must  be  allowed  to  reply  that,  according  to  their  earthly 
representatives  and  friends,  they  are  generally  a  good-for- 
nothing  set,  given  to  twaddle  and  deception,  whose  word, 
consequently,  is  not  deserving  of  confidence.  We  cannot 
think  that  very  many  of  our  fellow-beings  are  shallow 
enough  to  yield  to  such  questionable  testimony;  but  it 
should  never  be  overlooked  in  judging  the  system  that 
its  drift  is  in  opposition  to  all  that  we  hold  most  real 
and  true. 

15 


226  ISMS   OLD    AND   NEW. 

It  has  already  been  intimated  during  this  discussion 
that  the  Scriptures  recognize  the  existence  of  a  vast  spirit- 
ual empire^  whose  borders  lie  near  to  our  own  world,  but 
forbid  all  efforts  on  our  part  to  pry  into  its  secrets,  or  by 
our  devices  to  bring  its  inhabitants  hither.  "  We  are  not 
to  seek  those  who  have  familiar  spirits,  and  unto  wizards 
that  peep  and  mutter."  (Isaiah  vii;  Deut,  xviii.)  For 
such  prohibition  there  must  be  sufficient  reasons.  The 
first  doubtless  is,  that  God  knows  best  how  much  of  super- 
natural influence  we  can  bear,  and  would  regulate  it  in 
harmony  with  our  capacity,  our  weakness,  and  necessities. 
He  has  no  desire  to  convert  the  earth  into  a  mad-house,  to 
unseat  the  reason,  or  to  shatter  our  poor  understanding. 
We  are  not  only  overawed  by  many  of  the  terrific  exhibi- 
tions of  nature's  forces,  but  sometimes  feel  utterly  crushed 
before  them.  How,  then,  could  we  hope  to  stand  before  a 
lawless,  uncontrollable  influx  of  s]3irits,  with  their  bewilder- 
ing revelations,  and  their  sublime  manifestations  ?  Even 
the  belief  that  they  are  near,  the  imaginary  communion 
with  them,  and  the  allusion  that  they  can  be  summoned, 
have  proven  too  much  for  ordinary  intellects.  The  strain 
of  such  wild  fancies  has  unsettled  the  mind;  what,  then, 
would  the  reality  be  ?  Spiritualism  not  only  disregards 
this  divine  prohibition,  and  in  doing  so  attempts  to  usurp 
God's  prerogative,  but  in  its  profane  recklessness  fills  the 
soul  with  damaging  fancies.  On  this  ground,  also,  it  is 
pernicious.  Another  reason,  doubtless,  that  sanctions  this 
restriction  on  restless  curiosity  is  to  be  found  in  the  impor- 
tance which  God  has  attached  to  the  development  of  man's 
own  resources.  Having  given  sufficient  light  in  the  Bible 
for  all  necessary  purposes,  enough  to  serve  as  an  impulse 
to  thought,  man  is  left  to  investigate,  to  train  his  native 
powers  in  the  domain  of  inquiry,  and  to  rise  through  his 
own  endeavors.  If  angels  are  sent  to  strengthen,  or  saint- 
ed friends  to  comfort,  their  ministry  is  so  ordered  as  to 


THE  TRUE   HAPPINESS.  227 

harmonize  with  this  fundamental  idea.  They  help  without 
superseding;  and  they  direct  so  gently  that  they  never 
divert  the  creature  from  his  own  responsibility.  Spiritual- 
ism, in  reality,  ignores  this  arrangement.  It  is  a  short, 
convenient  road  to  knowledge.  It  tends  to  paralyze  effort, 
and  hence  the  large  number  of  dreamy,  visionary  individ- 
uals who  make  up  its  circles  and  compose  its  conventions, 
who  ramble  in  t'heir  talk,  and  by  their  general  incoherence 
create  the  impression  that  they  are  nerveless  and  aimless. 
This  emasculating,  debilitating  and  prostrating  influence, 
this  weakness,  languor  and  effeminacy,  are  among  the 
most  striking  signs  of  its  inability  to  bless  the  race,  and  of 
its  purely  mundane  origin  and  character.  And  on  this 
account,  if  on  no  other,  it  should  be  set  aside  by  thought- 
ful people  as  unworthy  their  attention  and  their  coun- 
tenance. 

But  if  not  to  this  spectral  superstition,  to  whom  or  to 
what  shall  we  go  that  we  may  obtain  the  words  of  eternal 
life  ?  Permit  a  Russian  idyl  to  fashion  a  reply.  There 
were  three  brothers  who  lived  near  the  Black  Sea.  Not 
satisfied  with  their  own  country,  they  proposed  to  go  in 
search  of  happiness.  They  said  behind  the  forest  there  is 
a  mountain,  behind  the  mountain  there  is  a  great  blue  sea, 
and  beyond  the  sea  there  are  wealthy  cities,  and  doubtless 
there  the  birds  sing  more  sweetly,  and  there  are  treasures 
of  joy  known  not  in  our  land.  So  they  saddled  their 
horses,  their  good  black  horses,  took  their  lances,  and  set 
off  on  their  journey.  The  eldest  brother  and  the  one  next 
in  age  wandered  over  the  hills,  and  maybe  are  wandering 
still,  but  happiness  they  have  never  found.  The  youngest 
did  not  go  far  when  his  heart  failed  him  and  he  retraced 
his  steps.  As  his  horse's  head  was  homeward  turned 
all  nature  seemed  to  say,  "  Thou  hast  done  well  ;  "  and 
when  he  arrived  at  the  door  of  his  house  he  beheld  a  maiden 
at  the  threshold  spinning,  and  he  asked  the  maiden  with 


228  ISMS   OLD    AND    NEW. 

the  golden  hair,  "  Who  art  thou  ?  "  and  she  answered,  as 
smiles  stole  from  her  brown  eyes,  "  I  am  happiness!  "  Ye 
restless  ones,  ye  who  would  penetrate  worlds  unknown  to 
satisfy  your  souls,  ye  who  are  weary  of  earth,  and  the 
wonders  of  a  gracious  providence,  hear  this:  cross  the 
phantom  mountains  and  seek  the  ghostly  cities,  but  your 
quest  will  only  multiply  sorrow  and  increase  your  gloom. 
Return!  There,  sitting  at  thy  door,  is  one  fairer  than 
woman,  more  radiant  than  angels;  her  benign  aspect  is 
assuring;  her  hands  are  filled  with  works  of  beneficence; 
and  in  her  eyes  is  the  deep  azure  of  heaven's  love.  "  Who 
art  thou?"  "  Christianity,"  she  answers,  "  the  daughter 
of  eternity,  the  sister  of  humanity,  the  mother  of  hope.  I 
am  happiness,  peace  and  joy."  Sit  thou  at  her  feet,  and 
within  the  influence  of  her  all-composing  calmness  thine 
all-disturbing  activity  shall  be  gently  soothed  into  quiet- 
ness and  peace;  there  shall  thy  weary  soul  find  rest  and 
bliss. 


SKEPTICISM 

"  Ever  learning,  and  never  able  to  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  truth."  2  Timothy  ill,  7. 

"  Rent  from  the  startled  gaze  the  veil  of  Night, 
O'er  old  delusions  streams  the  dawning  light; 
Man  breaks  his  bonds  —  ah,  blest  could  he  refrain, 
Free  from  the  curb,  to  scorn  alike  the  rein ! 
'Freedom!'  shouts  Reason,  'Freedom!'  wild  Desire  — 
And  light  to  Wisdom  is  to  Passion  fire. 
From  Nature's  check  bursts  forth  one  hurtling  swarm  — 
Ah,  snaps  the  anchor,  as  descends  the  storm ! 
The  sea  runs  mountains  —  vanishes  the  shore, 
The  mastless  wreck  drifts  endless  ocean  o'er; 
Lost  —  Faith  —  man's  polar  star !" 

Lytton's  Schiller. 

LAPLACE,  the  brilliant  author  of  The  Mecanique 
Celeste,  whose  thought  eagle-winged  and  eagle- 
eyed  surveyed  the  pathless  immensity  of  the  universe,  is 
a  sad  example  of  that  unhappy  inability  so  tersely  de- 
scribed by  the  apostle  in  our  text.  Born  in  an  age  of 
religious  doubt,  he  lived  in  a  state  of  mental  unquiet  and 
unrest.  He  seemed  incapable  of  arriving  at  any  settled 
conclusions  regarding  God  and  immortality.  The  spirit 
of  the  infinitesimal  calculus,  which  Napoleon  said  he  car- 
ried into  business,  also  inspired  and  influenced  him  in  his 
dealings  with  invisible  realities.  At  times  he  gravitated 
toward  Atheism,  criticised  what  he  was  pleased  to  con- 
sider imperfections  in  the  structure  and  order  of  earth  and 
heaven,  and  ascribed  faith  and  worship  to  ignorant  credu- 
lity or  to  cruel  imposture.  At  other  times  he  expressed 
dissatisfaction  with  these  opinions;  and  when  approaching 


230  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

death,  with  gloomy  discontent,  confessed  the  enormous- 
ness  of  human  ignorance,  and  in  effect  retracted  what  he 
had  previously  advocated.  In  a  curious  little  book  enti- 
tled Things  Not  Generally  Known  there  is  recorded  an 
interview  which  occurred  during  his  last  days,  between 
himself  and  an  English  philosopher,  Prof.  Sedgwick,  in 
which  the  dying  astronomer,  having  spoken  of  the  reli- 
gious endowments  of  England,  said:  "On  this  point  I 
deprecate  any  great  organic  changes  in  your  system ;  for 
I  have  lived  long  enough  to  know  what  at  one  time  I  did 
not  believe  —  that  no  society  can  be  upheld  in  happiness 
and  honor  without  the  sentiments  of  religion."  And  yet 
there  is  no  evidence  that  even  then  he  perceived  clearly 
or  grasped  firmly  the  verities  of  theology,  or  esteemed 
them  otherwise  than  as  useful  measures  of  effective  gov- 
ernment, or,  at  the  most,  as  vague  shadows  of  obscure 
ideas,  the  twilight  of  an  indefinite,  awful  something  in  the 
universe,  back  of  its  phenomena,  which  had  eluded  the 
searching  tests  of  his  mathematics.  Ever  learning  and 
ever  oscillating,  his  mind  in  a  constant  state  of  unquiet 
itching  and  of  troubled  flux,  fluctuating  and  floundering, 
he  seems  to  have  passed  away  without  having  come  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth  on  those  subjects,  which  of  all 
others  are  most  intimately  related  to  the  well-being  and 
progress  of  humanity.  And  many,  like  Laplace,  remain 
in  suspense  all  their  days,  vacillating  between  theories, 
unsettled  in  faith,  at  times  half  persuaded,  then  utterly 
rejecting;  and,  at  last,  dying  unresolved,  carry  their 
doubts  with  them  into  that  eternity  where  the  interroga- 
tory mark  is  never  found  darkening  the  punctuation  of 
spirit -speech. 

Skepticism  exists  under  two  forms:  the  permanent  and 
tli"  transient.  The  former  is  termed  "systematic,"  "  dog- 
matic," or  "speculative;"  the  latter  "experimental,"  or 
"practical;"  and  the  first  is  more  subtle  and  dangerous, 


DEFINITIONS   AND    DISTINCTIONS.  231 

though  not  more  distressing  and  depressing,  than  the 
second.  Systematic  or  philosophic  skepticism  is  the  apo- 
theosis of  incertitude,  the  canonization  of  doubt,  the 
beatification  of  ignorance.  Its  world  is  a  combination  of 
mirage  and  phantasmagoria,  inhabited  by  a  dim-visioned, 
short-sighted,  color-blind  race,  who  are  being  constantly 
befooled  by  their  senses,  and  by  the  varying  phenomena 
which  surround  them.  Such  a  conception  as  this  I  have 
no  desire  to  discuss;  neither  would  I  again  undertake  the 
thankless  task  of  vindicating  the  trustworthiness  of 
nature  and  the  reliableness  of  man's  faculties  from  the 
aspersions  of  this  Ism.  This  has  already  been  done  in  the 
discourse  on  Agnosticism,  and  need  not  be  repeated. 
But  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  remember,  if  the  universe 
cannot  but  defy  our  explorations,  and  if  there  is  no  key 
fitted  to  the  sinuosities  of  the  soul,  and  if,  as  is  assumed, 
everything  is  uncertain  but  uncertainty,  no  conceivable 
argument  could  hope  to  prevail  against  such  a  theory,  and 
time  would  only  be  wasted  in  attempting  to  frame  one. 

The  other  form  of  skepticism  is  more  tangible,  more 
general,  and  more  deserving  of  thoughtful  and  immediate 
attention.  Unlike  the  first,  it  is  not  a  system,  nor  a  phi- 
losophy, but  a  mood,  temper,  or  state  of  the  intellect  —  a 
suspense  of  judgment,  a  sense  of  confusion  and  perplexity, 
a  feeling  of  hesitancy,  and  a  lack  of  conviction  on  the 
particular  subject  in  debate.  These  are  its  elements;  and 
they  are  supposed  usually  to  exist  in  connection  with  a 
deep  and  earnest  spirit  of  inquiry;  and  hence,  according 
to  the  radical  import  of  the  name,  a  skeptic  is  one  who 
has  not  found  truth,  but  who  is  diligently  seeking  its  dis- 
covery. It  does  not,  however,  always  follow  that  the  un- 
satisfied, questioning  mind  is  at  the  same  time  faithful  in 
its  search  for  light,  especially  for  the  light  needed  to  dis- 
sipate the  darkness  which  enshrouds  the  grave  problems 
of  theology.     Unhappily,  when  doubt   invades  the  soul, 


232  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

and  the  doctrines  of  religion  are  looked  upon  as  chimer- 
ical, it  too  frequently  becomes  chronic,  and  the  labor  of 
investigation  is  abandoned.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  it  is  re- 
ported, burnt  the  second  part  of  his  WorkVs  History  in  a 
moment  of  excitement  caused  by  his  inability  to  verify  a 
little  incident  that  occurred  under  his  very  eyes  while  a 
prisoner  in  the  Tower  of  London.  On  which  occasion  he 
is  credited  with  these  reflections:  "How  many  falsehoods 
must  this  work  contain.  If  I  cannot  assure  myself  of  an 
event  which  happened  in  my  presence,  how  can  I  venture 
to  describe  those  which  occurred  thousands  of  years  be- 
fore I  was  born,  or  those  which  have  passed  at  a  distance 
since  my  birth  ?  Truth  !  truth  !  this  is  a  sacrifice  that  I 
owe  thee."  Whereupon  he  threw  the  manuscript  into 
the  fire.  It  is  believed  by  some  people  that  the  nebular 
hypothesis  of  Herschel  was  due  to  the  want  of  power  in 
his  forty-feet  reflector,  rather  than  to  ascertained  data. 
When  his  magnificent  instrument,  which  had  resolved  the 
milky  way  into  stellar  millions,  brought  to  view  other 
milky  ways  in  the  depths  of  the  universe  which  it  could 
not  thus  resolve,  the  astronomer  fell  to  theorizing,  and 
concluded  that  these  new  nebulne  were  masses  of  formless 
matter,  the  raw  material  out  of  which  solar  systems  are 
fashioned.  Instead  of  recognizing  the  limitations  of  the 
reflector  he  straightway  started  a  hypothesis,  and  took  for 
granted  what  he  could  not  prove.  Whether  the  story 
about  Raleigh  is  true,  or  this  representation  of  Herschel's 
theory  is  just,  they  both  illustrate  the  too  common  course 
pursued  by  those  who  entertain  suspicions  regarding  the 
teachings  of  Christianity.  Feeling  how  difficult  it  is  to 
decide  on  the  character  of  events  taking  place  around 
them,  and  realizing  how  frequently  they  fall  into  mis- 
takes, they  avoid  investigations  which,  they  have  pre- 
judged, would  yield  no  satisfactory  results.  They  sneer 
at  their  childhood's   faith  as  semi-mythical,  surrender  it 


THE    MISSION    OF    DOUBT.  233 

hastily  to  the  flames,  and  obstinately  walk  on  in  darkness 
to  the  grave.  Or,  failing  to  take  the  measure  of  their 
own  mind,  and  overlooking  the  limitations  which  rest  on 
thought,  because  they  cannot  resolve  the  nebulae  of  revela- 
tion into  suns  and  stars,  and  fancying  that  they  are 
severely  scientific,  when,  in  fact,  they  are  diffusively  senti- 
mental, they  impetuously  adopt  some  unproved  and  un- 
provable theory  of  Godless  materialism. 

Shakspeare  has  called  "modest  doubt  the  beacon  of  the 
wise,"  and  when  it  preserves  this  character  it  is  certainly 
deserving  of  sympathy.  The  harshness  with  which  it  has 
at  times  been  treated  seems  to  me  unwarranted.  He  who 
has  fallen  beneath  its  shadow  is  not  to  be  thoughtlessly 
derided,  for  it  may  cause  him  as  much  pain  to  doubt  as  it 
gives  Christians  to  have  him  doubt.  If  he  is  honest  he 
suffers  enough  without  additional  pangs  being  heedlessly 
inflicted  by  those  who  have  never  tasted  his  cup  of  bitter- 
ness. Only  the  most  stolid  and  unreflecting  will  deny  that 
there  is  much  in  the  world  to  perplex,  that  its  mysteries 
multiply  as  they  are  touched,  like  the  loaves  and  fishes  in 
the  Savior's  hands,  or  that  there  is  much  in  Christianity  as 
it  exists  among  us  to  impair  confidence  in  its  divine  ori- 
gin. Very  few  thoughtful  people  are  to  be  found  whose 
faith  at  some  period  has  not  been  temporarily  eclipsed; 
and  their  own  experience  should  teach  them  to  bear  pa- 
tiently with  the  unbelief  of  others.  He  who  has  never 
questioned  the  truth  of  the  things  that  are  urged  upon 
his  acceptance  in  the  name  of  religion,  who  has  never  felt 
the  very  foundations  departing  beneath  his  feet,  and  who 
has  never  agonized  in  the  grasp  of  giant  and  overwhelm- 
ing difficulties,  may  be  congratulated  on  the  strength  of 
his  faith,  but  he  cannot  be  complimented  on  the  depth  of 
his  intellect.  Moreover,  it  should  be  remembered  that 
doubt  has  its  office  and  function,  and  has  a  mission  to 
accomplish,  as  truly  as  belief.     Schiller  lays  stress  upon 


234  ISMS   OLD   ASTD   NEW. 

this  thought  in  his  Philosophical  Letters,  and  shows  in 
the  following  passage  how  that  which  we  deplore  becomes 
a  minister  of  good:  "Skepticism  and  free-thinking  are  the 
feverish  paroxysms  of  the  human  mind,  and  must  needs  at 
length  confirm  the  health  of  well  organized  souls  by  the 
unnatural  convulsion  which  they  occasion.  In  proportion 
to  the  dazzling  and  seducing  nature  of  error  will  be  the 
Greatness  of  the  triumphs  of  truth:  the  demand  for  con- 
viction  and  firm  belief  will  be  strong  and  pressing  in 
proportion  to  the  torment  occasioned  by  the  pangs  of 
doubt.  But  doubt  was  necessary  to  elicit  these  errors; 
the  knowledge  of  the  disease  had  to  precede  its  cure. 
Truth  surfers  no  loss  if  a  vehement  youth  fails  in  finding 
it,  in  the  same  way  that  virtue  and  religion  suffer  no  detri- 
ment if  a  criminal  denies  them."  Hence  it  is  that  to  the 
influence  of  Skepticism  we  owe  our  release  from  bondage  to 
manifold  superstitions.  Man's  ability  to  question,  and  his 
indefeasible  right  to  do  so,  lies  at  the  root  of  all  progress, 
whether  civil  or  religious.  It  has  gradually  emancipated 
him  from  errors  and  delusions;  it  has  enabled  him  to  sift 
the  true  from  the  false,  and  it  has  exalted  him  above  the 
despotisms  of  priests  and  potentates.  And  unless  we  can 
prove  that  the  future  has  no  fresh  treasures  of  knowledge 
to  yield,  no  clearer  and  more  accurate  views  of  Scripture 
to  discover,  we  must  admit  that  it  has  yet  a  work  to  ac- 
complish, and  is  neither  to  be  indiscriminately  derided 
nor  rashly  denounced.  But  when  it  degenerates  from  an 
honest  suspension  of  judgment,  and  abandons  its  ques- 
tioning attitude,  and  settles  into  blind,  rooted,  stubborn 
and  uninquiring  incredulity,  it  fails  to  be  reasonable  and 
forfeits  its  claim  to  kindly  consideration  and  generous 
sympathy.  "When  it  ceases  to  be  "a  tortuous  deviation  of 
the  wandering  reason  seeking  the  straight  road  to  eternal 
truth,"  and  becomes  a  disguised  or  undisguised  endeavor 
to  escape  from  religious  obligation,  it  is  guilty  of  inconsist- 


THE    POWER   OF    PREJUDICE.  235 

ency,  and  makes  itself  a  principle  of  infinite  mischief.  Into 
this  low  state  has  Skepticism  fallen  in  our  times,  and  from 
its  fatal  power  every  generous,  serious  soul  should  desire 
deliverance.  And  it  may  assist  all,  who  are  thus  sincerely 
anxious  to  be  freed  from  its  bondage,  to  look  at  it  thought- 
fully from  a  Christian  standpoint. 

First,  Christian  thinkers  regard  the  mental  processes  of 
Skepticism  as  unsatisfactory  and  inconclusive.     They  pri- 
marily object  to  the  assumption  of  its  advocates  that  the 
head  is  fully  qualified  to  judge  the  credentials  of  religion, 
whatever  may  be  the  condition  of  the  heart.     No  allow- 
ance seems  to  be  made  for  prejudices  and  prepossessions, 
or  for  a  low  tone  of  morals.     It  is  taken  for  granted  that 
spiritual  truth  can  be  settled  just  as  mathematical  truth  is 
decided,  by  a  purely  intellectual  method.     Such,  however, 
is  not  the  case.     Herbert  Spencer  has  shown  very  clearly 
in  his  Study  of  Sociology  the  tremendous  influence   of 
personal,  educational  and  professional   bias  on  investiga- 
tions of  this  character;  and  Hazlitt  has  argued  that  every 
man   is   responsible    for    his   belief,   on   the   ground    that 
wishes,  inclinations   and   predilections  govern  the  under- 
standing as  irresistibly  as  logic  or  evidence.     Fichte,  the 
philosopher,   has   well   said,   "  Our    system   of    thought    is 
often  but  the  history  of  our  heart;  conviction  arises  from 
inclination,  not  from  reason,  and  the  improvement  of  the 
heart   leads  to  true  wisdom";    and   he   adds  in   another 
place:  "If,  then,  the  will  be  steadfastly  and  sincerely  fixed 
upon  what  is  good,  the  understanding  will  of  itself  dis- 
cover what  is  true";  or,  in  other  words,  "men  do  not  will 
according  to  their  reason,  but  reason  according  to  their 
will."     Goethe  expresses  a  similar  sentiment,  and  it  may 
be  accepted   as  axiomatic.      Instinctively  we  feel   that  a 
man   of  mere   intellect,   cold   and  abstruse,  in  whom   the 
rational   absolutely  predominates   over   and   excludes  the 
emotional,  and  who  is  an  incarnation  of  mind,  and  only 


236  ISMS  OLD  AND   NEW. 

mind,  is  far  from  being  completely  and  harmoniously  de- 
veloped. We  shrink  from  these  unnatural  and  portentous 
individuals,  and  find  ourselves  reluctant  to  commit  oar 
lives  to  their  guidance.  Something  is  lacking  in  them, 
and  when  they  report  adversely  to  the  Faith  we  feel  that 
if  they  had  possessed  a  heart  to  speak  their  testimony 
would  have  been  different.  When  Skepticism,  therefore, 
approaches,  proudly  announcing  its  incertitude  in  the 
name  of  reason,  and  of  reason  only,  we  hesitate  to  receive 
its  conclusion,  as  the  process  by  which  it  has  been  reached 
is  radically  defective. 

We  also  know  that  most  of  its  supporters  are  not  care- 
ful to  scrutinize  their  likes  and  dislikes,  their  prejudices 
and  passions,  for  according  to  their  assumption  these  have 
no  bearing  on  the  issue,  and  as  long  as  they  thus  think 
must  their  ratiocination  be  open  to  question.  There  is 
much  in  Christianity  to  excite  antagonism.  It  declares 
the  awful  facts  of  sin,  responsibility  and  penalty,  and 
building  its  house  of  mercy  on  these  foundations  it  invites 
all  to  accept  its  saving  hospitality  as  an  unmerited  gift 
and  favor.  These  representations  are  not  agreeable  to 
those  who  incline  toward  iniquity,  nor  hardly  more  so  to 
those  who  pride  themselves  on  their  morality.  Naturally 
they  feel  indignant  with  a  system  that  overwhelms  their 
guilt  and  overturns  their  vanity,  and  are  in  a  favorable 
mood  to  be  captivated  by  any  bewildering  sophistry  that 
chimes  harmoniously  with  their  predilections.  Likewise 
professional  pursuits  may  exert  a  warping  influence  on  the 
judgment;  for  when  the  attention  is  directed  exclusively  to 
physical  phenomena,  as  in  the  case  of  naturalists,  or  to  the 
animal  side  of  humanity,  as  in  the  case  of  physicians,  it  is 
not  improbable  that  they  will  fail  to  see  anything  beyond 
the  particular  objects  in  which  they  are  personally  inter- 
ested. As  the  surgeon's  scalpel  lays  bare  no  soul,  and 
the  astronomer's  glass  discovers  no  God,  they  are  in  dan- 


WILLIAM    WIRT'S   LETTER.  237 

ger  of  inferring  that  there  is  nothing  grander  or  more 
wonderful  in  the  universe  than  the  dull  material  with 
which  they  are  familiar,  and  with  which  they  have  exclu- 
sively to  do.  Until  Skepticism  makes  due  and  adequate 
allowance  for  the  mental  obscurity  and  obliquity  which 
these  prepossessions  may  occasion,  and  until  it  takes 
counsel  of  the  deeper  longings  of  the  heart,  its  doubts 
will  fail  to  carry  conviction ;  and  when  it  does  this,  in  my 
opinion,  few  doubts  will  remain  for  it  to  cherish  and  ex- 
press. 

Christians  also  question  the  validity  of  an  argument 
that  exaggerates  the  uncertainties  of  religion,  and  that 
overlooks  the  vagueness  of  science.  It  is  well  known  that 
this  form  of  unbelief  owes  much  of  its  influence  to  the 
impression,  which  it  has  industriously  cultivated,  that  re- 
ligion is  too  indefinite,  changeful  and  mysterious  for  it  to 
inspire  confidence.  This  is  its  favorite  position,  and  by 
far  its  strongest;  and  yet  it  is  a  long  way  from  being  im- 
pregnable. The  mystery  that  rests  on  spiritual  subjects 
must  be  admitted;  for,  as  Goethe  says,  "the  farther  we 
advance  in  research,  the  nearer  we  approach  the  unsearch- 
able"; but  this  is  no  more  prejudicial  to  the  authority  of 
Christianity  than  it  is  to  the  trustworthiness  of  nature. 
William  Wirt,  who  clearly  discerned  this  fact,  in  a 
letter  now  in  the  possession  of  a  prominent  citizen  of 
Chicago,  expresses  his  opinion  regarding  the  worth  of  this 
objection  in  these  terms:  "Would  to  God  you  could  be- 
lieve with  me  that  the  Bible  is  true,  the  revealed  will  of 
God,  and  offers  to  us  the  only  terms  of  salvation.  Human 
reason  may  revolt  at  it,  and  what  is  poor  human  reason, 
unable  to  explain  how  a  blade  of  grass  grows  ?  Sur- 
rounded every  moment  with  realities  which  it  admits  to 
be  inexplicable  mysteries,  and  yet  presuming  to  measure 
and  pronounce  upon  the  counsels  of  Omniscience,  and  re- 
jecting the   Christian    religion    because    it   is  a  mystery. 


238  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

Can  anything  be  more  mysterious  than  the  union  of  soul 
and  body,  unless  it  be  the  still  greater  mystery,  which 
some  profess  to  believe,  that  matter  can  be  so  organized 
as  to  produce  the  amazing  intellectual  results  which  we 
witness  in  man?  In  believing  our  own  existence  we  be- 
lieve a  mystery  as  great  as  any  that  the  Christian  religion 
presents,  for  there  are  no  degrees  in  mystery.  Pass  the 
sphere  of  reason,  and  all  is  mystery  of  equal  degree;  all 
the  works  of  the  Almighty  are  mysterious  to  our  poor 
limited  faculties.  What  a  series  of  magnificent  mysteries 
does  astronomy  present!  Philosophers  resolve  the  motion 
of  the  planets  into  gravitation,  and  what  is  gravitation  ? 
Let  reason  answer  the  question.  It  cannot  do  it.  She 
finds  herself  involved  in  a  world  of  mysteries,  and  yet  she 
rejects  the  Christian  religion  because  it  is  a  mystery.  Is 
not  God  himself  a  mystery  ?  or  if  the  solar  system  is  be- 
lieved to  be  uncreated  and  eternal,  is  not  that  a  mystery  ? 
Would  I  have  a  man  renounce  his  reason  ?  No.  I  ask 
only  that  he  will  confine  it  to  its  proper  sphere,  and  not 
pronounce  the  ocean  without  a  bottom  because  it  cannot 
touch  it  with  an  inch  of  line."  Likewise,  may  we  not 
with  equal  propriety  inquire,  who  is  able  to  solve  the 
problems  of  medicine,  or  accurately  define  the  relations 
and  properties  with  which  geometry  has  to  do?  The 
physician  talks  learnedly  about  a  principle  of  life  which 
eludes  his  touch  and  defies  his  analysis,  and  the  mathema- 
tician uses  terms  in  his  discourse  with  a  freedom  that  sug- 
gests a  refreshing  unconsciousness  of  their  inexplicable- 
ness.  What  does  he  mean  by  "space,"  "properties,"  and 
"relations"  with  which  his  geometry  deals?  It  would 
puzzle  him  to  answer,  especially  so  unobjectionably  as  to 
command  the  assent  of  every  other  thinker.  And  what 
about  the  solution  of  Euclid's  Postulate,  the  squaring  of 
the  circle,  and  the  geometrical  axioms  which  we  accept 
but  cannot  demonstrate?     Then    as   to    fickleness,   what 


VARIATIONS   OF   SCIENCE.  239 

has  been  more  mutable  than  the  interpretations  of 
nature,  which  have  been  put  forth  by  its  zealous  ex- 
plorers and  expounders?  For  instance,  concerning  the 
age  of  the  earth,  how  various  and  contradictory  are 
the  opinions  of  eminent  men  who  enjoy  the  same  oppor- 
tunities for  investigation.  Sir  Charles  Lyell  held  that 
two  hundred  and  forty  millions  of  years  have  elapsed 
since  the  beginning  of  the  Cambrian  period,  while  Mr. 
Darwin  indulges  in  calculations  that  would  date  its  ori- 
gin a  billion  of  years  ago.  On  the  contrary,  Sir  William 
Thomson  is  satisfied  with  less  bewildering  figures;  he 
limits  the  existing  state  of  things  on  the  earth  to  about  a 
hundred  millions;  but  Prof.  Tait  is  even  more  modest,  and 
argues  that  physical  considerations  render  it  impossible 
for  life  to  have  been  here  for  more  than  ten  or  fifteen 
millions  of  years.  You  perceive  that  millions,  more  or  less, 
make  very  little  difference  with  these  gentlemen;  and 
the  same  uncertainty  appears  in  other  departments  of 
inquiry.  The  theory  of  emission  has  been  supplanted  by 
that  of  undulations;  caloric  has  been  driven  from  heat  by 
atomic  motion;  phlogiston  and  protoplasm  have  both  suc- 
cumbed to  electric  and  magnetic  forces;  and  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  foretell  how  light  will  reach  us  in  the  future,  or 
what  elements  our  scientists  will  permit  to  compose  the 
atmosphere  we  breathe,  and  the  world  we  inhabit.  Now 
is  it  not  a  curious  instance  of  inconsistency  when  a  man 
challenges  the  credibility  of  Christianity  on  account  of  the 
variable  and  conflicting  views  to  which  it  has  given  rise, 
and  yet  remains  an  ardent  believer  in  the  trustworthiness 
of  nature,  concerning  whose  operations  so  many  giant 
battles  have  been  fought  ?  The  changing  aspects  of  re- 
ligion, and  the  differences  of  opinion  which  exist  among 
its  disciples  the  Christian  does  not  deny,  though  he  claims 
that  there  is  greater  unity  and  permanence  in  the  inter- 
pretations of   its  doctrinal  and  ethical   teachings  than  is 


240  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

generally  recognized;  and  he  argues  that  its  certitude  is 
no  more  impeachable  on  these  grounds  than  is  that  of  the 
material  universe.  He  claims  that  it  is  God's  plan  that 
man  should  search  for  truth  in  the  spiritual  and  physical 
domains;  that  the  privilege  of  investigating  involves  the 
possibility  of  error,  and  that  it  is  no  more  than  reasonable, 
therefore,  to  expect  diversity  of  thought  about  both,  on 
account  of  which  to  reject  either  would  be  folly. 

The  failure  of  Skepticism  to  attach  a  proper  value  to 
the  testimony  of  religious  experience,  and  to  discover  a 
suitable  sphere  for  the  exercise  of  the  faith-faculty,  is 
regarded  by  Christians  as  fatal  to  its  pretensions.  Its 
attacks  are  directed  almost  entirely  against  historical 
evidences  and  alleged  Scripture  discrepancies.  In  these 
it  earnestly  seeks  for  flaws,  but  pays  no  attention  to  the 
statements  made  by  the  vast  body  of  living  witnesses, 
who  testify  to  what  "  they  have  seen,  and  heard,  and  han- 
dled." The  well-known  lines  of  Horace,  condensed  by 
Tennyson,  express  the  thought, 

"Things  seen  are  weightier  than  things  heard"; 

but  things  felt  carry  even  greater  weight;  for  there  is 
nothing  more  real  and  certain  than  our  heart  experiences. 
Well,  here  are  thousands  of  worthy  people,  among  them 
the  most  cultivated,  sober  and  blameless  members  of  soci- 
ety, who  assure  us  that  they  have  been  favored  with  visit- 
ations from  God's  Spirit;  that  they  are  now  conscious  of 
His  indwelling;  that  their  prayers  have  been  answered, 
and  that  in  suffering  and  tribulation  they  have  enjoyed  a 
deep  sense  of  the  Divine  presence  and  sympathy.  Here 
are  also  other  thousands  who  are  going  down  to  death 
radiant  with  triumph,  contemplated  by  weeping  friends 
whose  tears  gleam  strangely  with  the  iris  hues  of  hope, 
and  who  to  the  last  ascribe  their  victory  to  "the  Lamb  of 
God,  who  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world."     These  are 


THE   FAITH-FACULTY.  241 

not  fanatics;  many  of  them  are  very  commonplace  per- 
sons, not  given  to  sentimental  emotions,  and  in  all  other 
relations  of  life  their  word  would  be  taken  and  relied  on. 
Why  should  they  be  doubted  when  they  testify  to  what 
they  experience  of  God's  goodness  and  grace  ?  Unless  we 
are  warranted  in  treating  with  disdain  the  inner  world  of 
thought  and  feeling,  we  cannot  refuse  to  listen  to  its 
voices.  And  as  these  voices  assure  us  of  the  substantial 
reality  of  religion,  only  the  exigencies  of  a  desperate 
cause  will  ignore  their  testimony,  or  sneer  at  it  as  vain 
and  meaningless.  Nor  have  infidels  always  been  able  to 
bear  consistent  testimony  against  them;  for  at  times  their 
own  conduct  has  indicated  the  existence  of  deeper  spirit- 
ual necessities  than  their  systems  countenance.  Rochester 
turned  to  Christ  in  his  closing  hours,  and  like  Julian 
acknowledged  that  the  Galilean  had  conquered;  David 
Hume  was  not  a  stranger  to  the  house  of  God,  but  in 
Scotland  sometimes  joined  with  the  people  in  solemn  wor- 
ship; Voltaire  reared  a  church  at  Ferney;  Collins,  it  is  said, 
insisted  that  his  servants  should  be  faithful  to  the  claims 
of  the  Sanctuary;  Robespierre  decreed  the  extraordinary 
festival  of  the  Supreme  Being;  Huxley  has  plead  for  the 
retention  of  the  Bible  in  education;  and  Tyndall  has 
waxed  indignant  over  the  imputations  cast  on  his  belief  in 
Deity;  and  M.  Littre,  in  the  shadow  of  the  grave,  has 
confessed,  "They  are  happy  who  have  faith";  and  it  is 
natural  to  conclude  that  this  amiable  disregard  of  the 
loo-ic  of  their  views  is  due  to  a  dim  consciousness  of  some- 

o 

thing  in  their  own  hearts  which  cries  out  against  their 
truth. 

Reason,  conscience  and  volition  have  received  from 
thinkers  considerable  attention,  but  the  faith-faculty  has 
never  yet  been  exhaustively  discussed.  Within  our  neces- 
sarily circumscribed  limits,  and  dealing  with  a  different 
subject,  it  is  impossible  to  do  more  than  allude  to  its  sig- 
16 


242  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

nificance.  We  find  in  man  capacity  for  faith,  and,  as 
Goethe  has  shown,  the  ages  in  which  it  has  been  in  active 
exercise  have  been  the  most  brilliant  in  the  annals  of  time. 
It  bears  "a  heaven-storming  character,"  and  intuitively 
seeks  an  Infinite  Being,  and  is  as  dissatisfied  with  any 
other  as  reason  is  with  sophistry.  Religion  appeals  to  it, 
strengthens,  feeds  it,  and  where  it  is  nourished  the  entire 
character  feels  its  benignant  influence.  It  can  no  more  be 
neglected  in  the  harmonious  development  of  a  man  than 
conscience  or  volition.  But  what  kind  of  training  does  it 
receive  from  Skepticism  ?  None  at  all,  or,  if  any,  simply 
mistraining.  SkejDticism  does  not  know  what  to  do  with 
it.  If  the  normal  attitude  of  the  mind  toward  spiritual 
subjects  is  doubt,  how  comes  it  that  instinctively  it  trusts  ? 
Why  should  faith  be  so  natural  if  it  is  unreasonable? 
What  is  its  place,  what  its  function,  what  its  object  ? 
To  these  questions  this  Ism  has  no  answer  to  return.  All 
it  attempts  to  do  is  to  blight,  wither  and  destroy,  root  and 
branch,  this  faculty,  and  in  its  place  plant  the  seeds  that 
may  at  last  grow  into  the  colorless  and  perfumeless  weed 
of  unbelief.  According  to  Goethe,  even  "  natural  religion, 
properly  speaking,  requires  no  faith,"  and  if  so,  where 
every  kind  of  religion  is  rejected  its  operations  must  be 
entirely  superfluous.  Goethe  says:  "The  persuasion  that 
a  great  producing,  regulating  and  conducting  Being  con- 
ceals himself,  as  it  were,  behind  Nature,  to  make  himself 
comprehensible  to  us, —  such  a  conviction  forces  itself 
upon  everyone.  Nay,  if  we  for  a  moment  let  drop  this 
thread,  which  conducts  us  through  life,  it  may  be  imme- 
diately and  everywhere  resumed.  But  it  is  different  with 
a  special  religion,  which  announces  to  us  that  this  Great 
Being  distinctly  and  preeminently  interests  himself  for 
one  individual,  one  family,  one  people,  one  country.  This 
religion  is  founded  on  faith,  which  must  be  immovable  if 
it  would   not  be   instantly   destroyed."     Then   a   special 


DOGMATIC    DOUBT.  243 

revelation  is  indispensable  to  the  training  of  this  faculty, 
just  as  specific  and  diversified  objects  are  indispensable  to 
the  development  of  vision;  and  if  it  is  to  be  preserved  at 
all  its  wants  must  be  adequately  supplied.  The  difficulty, 
not  to  say  impossibility,  of  Skepticism  affording  nourish- 
ment to  faith,  taken  in  connection  with  its  disregard  of 
the  testimony  borne  to  religion  by  experience,  completes 
the  dissatisfaction  which  its  mental  processes  produce,  and 
increases  the  conviction  that  they  should  be  as  little  trust- 
ed as  "adders  fang'd." 

^  Secondly,  reflecting  Christians  consider  the  moral  qual- 
ities of  Skepticism  as  unattractive  and  reprehensible. 
They  object  to  its  intolerance.  It  is  an  erroneous  notion, 
though  one  widely  spread,  that  belief  in  holy  things  leads 
to  narrowness,  exclusiveness,  and  cruel  bigotry.  Unques- 
tionably it  has  served  as  a  pretext  for  this  unlovely  spirit; 
but,  as  Naville  argues,  it  is  in  direct  contradiction  to  its 
essential  nature.  Christianity  fell  away  from  its  original 
character  before  it  began  to  persecute.  In  fact,  it  became 
skeptical  before  it  became  bloody.  It  doubted  the  suffi- 
ciency of  God's  arm,  and  entered  into  alliance  with  the 
civil  government;  it  doubted  the  adequacy  of  Revelation, 
and  invented  infallible  popes  and  councils;  it  doubted  the 
efficiency  of  Christ's  mediation,  and  created  interminable 
intercessors  out  of  dead  saints  and  virgins;  and  it  doubted 
the  power  of  the  gospel  to  convert  the  soul,  and  it  went 
forth  to  evangelize,  sword  and  torch  in  hand.  Thus  its 
doubts  bred  intolerance,  as  they  do  in  every  mind  where 
they  are  cherished;  hence  the  dogmatic  manner  with 
which  religion  is  treated  by  those  who  profess  to  be  ques- 
tioning its  claims.  No  pope  ever  delivered  himself  more 
positively  than  do  these  devotees  at  the  shrine  of  uncer- 
tainty. They  are  ready,  to  use  a  Shakespearean  phrase, 
"to  spurn  the  sea  if  it  could  roar"  at  them.  All  who 
differ  from  them  are  set  clown  as  fanatics  or  simpletons. 


244  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

They  are  vilified  in  writings,  are  caricatured  in  speeches, 
and  are  held  up  to  derision  and  contempt.  The  prejudices 
of  society  are  sedulously  excited  against  them  by  inflam- 
matory appeals  and  misrepresentations,  and  they  are  de- 
scribed as  the  victims  of  idle,  cunning  priests,  whose  influ- 
ence is  pernicious  and  ruinous.  They  are  stretched  on  the 
rack  of  ridicule;  they  are  scorched  in  the  fires  of  denun- 
ciation; they  are  decapitated  by  the  guillotine  of  sarcasm; 
and  were  it  possible,  their  churches  would  be  closed,  and 
they  themselves  be  ostracised.  And  all  this  vituperative 
intolerance  in  the  interest  of  doubt!  For  the  sake  of 
conserving  the  sanctity  of  negation,  and  upholding  the 
authority  of  nothingness,  this  petty  and  contemptible, 
arrogant  and  tyrannous  course  is  pursued.  If  some  noble 
and  glorious  cause  were  at  stake  we  might  find  some  palli- 
ation, under  the  circumstances,  for  this  bitterness  and 
severity;  but  when,  according  to  uniform  consent,  there  is 
nothing  but  uncertainty  to  defend,  never  was  passion  and 
anger  more  unjustifiable  and  idle. 

Heartlessness  as  well  as  intolerance  is  chargeable  upon 
this  Ism.  It  robs  and  makes  no  return;  it  tears  from  the 
souls  of  the  young  and  old  ideals  that  elevate,  aims  that 
inspire,  hopes  that  sustain.  Careless  of  the  wounds  it 
inflicts,  of  the  desolation  it  creates,  it  seeks  to  undermine 
confidence  in  prayer  and  providence.  It  is  a  dull,  dumb 
iconoclast  that  destroys  without  building,  that  smites 
faith  with  pals}^,  and  then  stands  gibbering  over  the  help- 
less wreck  it  has  wrought.  If  we  are  in  sorrow  it  has  no 
comfort,  if  we  are  in  sin  it  has  no  deliverance,  if  we  are  in 
perplexity  it  has  no  wisdom,  if  we  are  in  darkness  it  has 
no  light.  The  virtue  it  preaches  is  without  foundation, 
the  heroism  it  inculcates  is  without  inducement,  and  the 
immortality  it  whispers  is  without  evidence.  Its  loftiest 
entiments  are  borrowed  from  the  religion  it  affects  to 
despise;   the  liberty  which  it  claims  to  champion,  it  has 


FANATICISM   OF    DOUBT.  245 

sacrificed  but  little  to  secure;  and  the  sweet  charities  it 
commends,  it  has  done  nothing  to  establish.  The  garland 
of  eloquence  wherewith  it  clothes  itself  is  the  adornment 
of  a  corpse;  every  flower  sheathes  a  worm  in  its  bosom, 
and  every  breath  of  fragrance  is  mingled  with  death.  Its 
oratory  smells  of  the  tomb,  and  the  symbol  of  its  hope  is 
an  eyeless,  tongueless  skull,  grinning  in  mocking  insolence 
at  everything  that  dignifies  and  ennobles  life.  It  brings 
no  benefaction,  it  pronounces  no  benediction;  but  casts 
its  baleful  shadow  on  all  that  is  fair  and  sacred.  From  its 
cold  lips  there  comes  no  grand  and  full  rounded  "Yea," 
to  match  its  piercing,  blighting  and  destroying  "  Nay." 
It  is  simply  a  huge  Negation,  seeking  with  one  hand  to 
stop  the  mouth  of  religion,  and  with  the  other  to  write  on 
human  aspirations  and  beliefs  a  bitter  and  derisive  "No." 
It  has  no  gospel  of  salvation  even  for  this  world,  but  only 
an  evangel  of  destruction.  If  it  had  anything  to  say,  if 
it  had  a  better  message  to  deliver  than  Christianity  speaks, 
its  zeal  would  be  explicable.  But  why  it  should  desire  to 
impoverish  the  heart  and  life  of  thousands,  why  it  should 
labor  to  deprive  the  world  of  the  only  sun  that  irradiates 
its  gloomy  fields  and  its  deep,  dark  valleys,  and  why  it 
should  be  gratified  at  the  prospect  of  blotting  out  suns 
and  stars  from  the  immortal  soul,  cannot  be  imagined,  and 
requires  the  malicious  ingenuity  of  fiends  to  parallel.  Do 
you  recall  these  words  of  Tennyson  ?  — 

"  Oh,  thou  that  after  toil  and  storm 

Mays't  seem  to  have  reached  a  purer  air, 
Whose  faith  has  center  everywhere, 
Nor  cares  to  fix  itself  to  form. 

"  Leave  thou  thy  sister  when  she  prays, 
Her  early  heaven,  her  happy  views ; 
Nor  thou  with  shadowed  hints  confuse 
A  life  that  leads  melodious  days. 


246  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

"  Her  faith  through  form  is  pure  as  thine, 
Her  hands  are  quicker  unto  good ; 
Oh,  sacred  be  the  flesh  and  blood 

To  which  she  links  a  truth  divine." 

If  such  a  faith  should  be  tenderly  and  thoughtfully 
dealt  with  by  one  who  rejoices  in  emancipation  from 
"form,"  how  much  more  deeply  should  it  be  reverenced 
by  him  who  unhappily  has  no  faith  at  all.  His  own 
dreariness  and  loneliness  should  touch  his  heart  with  com- 
passion and  restrain  him  from  saying  or  doing  what  would 
carry  the  sense  of  solitariness  and  sadness  to  others.  In- 
difference to  this  duty  betrays  a  heartlessness  and  reck- 
lessness which  augurs  ill  for  the  world  should  Skepticism 
ever  triumph.  If  so  heedless  of  the  pain  it  inflicts  now, 
who  can  foresee  where  it  would  stop  were  it  exalted  and 
enthroned  ? 

The  injury  that  is  wrought  to  souls  by  this  cruel 
thoughtlessness,  or  deliberate  cruelty,  is  faithfully  por- 
trayed by  Schiller.  He  represents  (Philosophical  Letters) 
a  certain  Julius  as  writing  to  Raphael  in  the  following 
strain:  "You  have  robbed  me  of  the  thought  that  gave 
me  peace.  You  have  taught  me  to  despise  where  I  prayed 
before.  A  thousand  things  were  venerable  in  my  sight 
till  your  dismal  wisdom  stripped  off  the  veil  from  them. 
I  saw  a  crowd  of  people  streaming  to  church.  I  heard 
their  enthusiastic  devotion  poured  forth  in  a  common  act 
of  prayer  and  praise.  Twice  did  I  stand  beside  a  death- 
bed and  saw  —  wonderful  power  of  religion !  —  the  hope 
of  heaven  triumph  over  the  terror  of  annihilation,  and  the 
serene  light  of  joy  beaming  from  the  eyes  of  those  depart- 
ing." But  faith  in  the  reality  of  this  worship,  and  con- 
fidence in  the  certainty  of  immortality,  had  alike  been 
destroyed  by  the  sneers  of  his  friend;  and  unhappy  Julius 
was  [eft  with  his  rationalism  and  his  cynicism  a  poorer,  and 
11.  »t  a  wiser,  man.    No  wonder  that  the  honest  growler,  Car- 


CARLYLE   OX   VOLTAIRE.  247 

lyle,  treats  with  contempt  the  men  who  lend  themselves  to 
this  pitiable  and  despicable  business.  "Cease,  my  much- 
respected  Herr  von  Voltaire,"  he  says.  "  Shut  thy  sweet 
voice,  for  the  task  appointed  thee  seems  finished.  Suffi- 
ciently hast  thou  demonstrated  this  proposition,  consider- 
able or  otherwise :  that  the  Mythus  of  the  Christian  Re- 
ligion looks  not  in  the  eighteenth  century  as  it  did  in  the 
eighth."  .  .  .  "But  what  next?  Wilt  thou  help  us  to 
embody  the  divine  Spirit  of  that  religion  in  a  new  Mythus, 
in  a  new  vehicle  and  vesture,  that  our  Souls,  otherwise  too 
like  perishing,  may  live  ?  What  !  Thou  hast  no  faculty 
in  that  kind  ?  Only  a  torch  for  burning,  no  hammer  for 
building?  Take  our  thanks,  then,  and  — thyself  away." 
Evidently  Carlyle  felt  that  it  might  offend  ears  polite  for 
him  to  write  all  that  was  in  his  heart  when  thinking  of 
such  melodious  faith-murderers  as  Voltaire.  With  them 
he  had  no  sympathy;  neither  have  we,  and  we  feel  their 
bigotry  and  heartlessness  so  keenly  that  we  turn  from 
them  with  horror  and  deplore  the  condition  of  every  man 
who  falls  a  prey  to  their  insidious  wiles. 

Whether  this  aversion  is  justifiable  or  not,  you,  my 
readers,  must  decide.  I  leave  you  to  ponder  the  serious 
matter  in  your  souls;  but  being  satisfied  in  my  own  that 
it  is,  and  feeling  interested  in  your  spiritual  well-being, 
permit  me  to  press  home  the  duty  incumbent  on  you  if 
you  would  be  free  from  the  entangling  meshes  of  Skep- 
ticism. The  Country  Parson  gives  this  good  advice  to 
persons  in  your  condition:  "Don't  turn  your  back  upon 
your  doctrinal  doubts  and  difficulties.  Go  up  to  them  and 
examine  them.  Perhaps  the  ghastly  object  which  looks 
to  you  in  the  twilight  like  a  sheeted  ghost  may  prove  to 
be  no  more  than  a  tablecloth  hanging  upon  a  hedge;  but 
if  you  were  to  pass  it  distantly  without  ascertaining  what 
it  is,  you  might  carry  the  shuddering  belief  that  you  had 
seen  a   disembodied"  spirit   all  your  days.     Some  people 


248  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

(very  wrongly  as  I  think)  would  have  you  turn  the  key 
upon  your  skeptical  difficulties  and  look  away  from  the 
pig-sty  altogether." 

I  do  not  belong  to  this  class.  I  think  it  is  the  duty 
of  every  man  to  confront  boldly  and  investigate  fear- 
lessly all  kinds  of  objections  that  may  obscure  the  truth 
of  Christianity.  As  a  rule,  the  more  thoroughly  they 
are  sifted  and  the  more  closely  they  are  scrutinized,  the 
less  real  and  weighty  will  they  appear.  Have  the  cour- 
age to  grasp  them,  to  clutch  them  firmly  and  look  them 
squarely  in  the  face,  and  you  shall  find  their  seeming 
solidity  to  be  nothing  but  vapor,  and  their  pretentious 
speech  to  be  but  empty  gasconade  and  windy  rodomont- 
ade. Take  the  claims  of  Christianity  and  all  the  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  their  reception,  apply  yourself  to 
understand,  examine,  and  judge  them,  and  if  the  task  is 
undertaken  in  the  right  spirit  the  result  need  not  be 
apprehended.  Search  diligently,  for  this  is  no  child's  play 
for  sluggard  brains  and  fitful,  spasmodic  efforts;  search 
impartially,  for  this  is  too  grave  a  work  for  purblind  preju- 
dice, obstinate  onesidedness,  and  nutshell  narrow-mind- 
edness; search  systematically,  for  this  is  too  deep  and 
profound  a  theme  for  irregular,  unmethodical,  and  indis- 
criminate thinking;  search  exhaustively,  for  the  problems 
involved  are  too  intricate  and  abstruse  for  shallow-headed, 
dull-witted,  shoaly  superficialness;  and  search  reverently, 
for  the  issues  are  too  solemn  and  wide-reaching  for  quip 
and  quirk,  conceits  and  comicalities,  showy  smartness, 
buffooneries,  and  idle  farcicalities.  Thus  search,  rever- 
encing God,  reverencing  truth,  and  reverencing  self,  and 
then  shall  it  be  found  that  reason  and  faith  coalesce  in 
lucid  union,  that  Christianity  is  not  a  phantom,  but  the 
one  reality  mocked  by  gibing  ghosts,  and  that  Skepticism 
is  imt  unconquerable,  but  vulnerable  to  earnest  and  exact- 
in-  thought.     But  even  if  it  should  resist  laborious  medi- 


FALTERING    FAITH.  249 

tation  and  refuse  entirely  to  surrender,  if  faith  should 
continue  to  be  darkened  by  great  shadows  and  grow 
faint  and  cold  before  the  breath  of  drear  despondency, 
nevertheless,  though  struggling  to  see  in  the  imperfect 
light,  and  failing  to  rise  above  the  murky  atmosphere,  the 
knowledge  mastered  and  the  evidence  tested  would  not  be 
useless.  At  least  they  will  bring  a  certain  confidence  in 
the  reality  of  religion,  a  profound  conviction  of  the  utter 
folly  of  unbelief,  and  if  they  do  nothing  more,  they  will 
constrain  the  troubled  and  unsatisfied  soul  with  the  sad, 
bereaved  one  in  Tennyson's  In  Jfemoriam  to  exclaim: 

"I  falter  where  I  firmly  trod, 

And  falling  with  my  weight  of  cares 
Upon  the  great  world's  altar-stairs 
That  slope  thro'  darkness  up  to  God, 
I  stretch  lame  hands  of  faith  and  grope, 
And  gather  dust  and  chaff,  and  call 
To  what  I  feel  is  Lord  of  all, 
And  faintly  trust  the  larger  hope." 


LIBERALISM. 

"  Hirn  that  is  weak  in  the  faith  receive  ye,  but  not  to  doubtful 
disputations."  Rom.  xiv,  1. 

"  Why  is  my  liberty  judged  of  another  man's  conscience?" 

1  Cor.  x,  29. 

"  O  love-destroying,  cursed  Bigotry ! 
...  Of  ignorance 

Begot,  her  daughter,  Persecution,  walked 
The  earth,  from  age  to  age,  and  drank  the  blood 
Of  saints;  with  horrid  relish  drank  the  blood 
Of  God's  peculiar  children,  and  was  drunk, 
And  in  her  drunkenness  dreamed  of  doing  good. 
The  supplicating  hand  of  innocence, 
That  made  the  tiger  mild,  and  in  his  wrath 
The  lion  pause,  the  groans  of  suffering  most 
Severe,  were  naught  to  her;  she  laughed  at  groans; 
No  music  pleased  her  more,  and  no  repast 
So  sweet  to  her  as  blood  of  men  redeemed 
By  blood  of  Christ."  Pottok. 

THANKS  be  to  God,  all  this  is  changed!  But  the 
greatness  of  this  revolution  is  more  vividly  realized  in 
Europe  than  in  America.  There  the  eye  frequently  rests 
on  the  now  useless  weapons  of  persecuting  ages,  and  on 
the  monuments  which  the  modern  spirit  has  reared  to  mur- 
dered saints.  The  hypocritical  pharisees  of  Christ's  time, 
who  garnished  the  tombs  of  the  righteous,  were  accus- 
tomed to  say,  with  what  degree  of  sincerity  you  who  have 
studied  their  character  can  judge,  "  If  we  had  lived  in  the 
days  of  our  fathers  we  would  not  have  been  partakers 
with  them  in  the  blood  of  the  prophets."  And  many  of 
those  who  have  been  instrumental  in  quenching  the  fires 

250 


THE   AGE   OF   FREEDOM.  251 

of  martyrdom,  and  in  commemorating  the  grandeur  of 
suffering  goodness,  may  have  been  equally  insincere;  but 
if  they  were,  this  fact  shows  only  more  clearly  the  strength 
of  the  liberalistic  movement,  before  which  even  their  bigo- 
try was  compelled  to  succumb.  In  the  Tower  of  London 
the  now  harmless  thumb-screws  and  the  now  edgeless  ax 
are  exhibited  to  the  curious,  and  recall  to  thoughtful  souls 
the  terrors  of  secret  tortures,  and  of  public  or  private 
executions.  How  innocent  they  seem,  and  yet  what  a 
story  they  could  relate  of  undeserved  pain  inflicted,  of 
piteous  shrieks  and  groans  unheeded,  and  of  hearts  sob- 
bing in  helpless  anguish  beneath  the  iron  rule  of  tyrant 
kings  and  priests,  who  recognized  no  conscience  but  their 
own.  Their  tragic  work  is  ended  forevermore,  and  now 
the  red  republican  can  mock  the  ax,  and  the  despised 
heretic  can  smile  at  the  cruel  thumb-screw,  while  they 
give  free  expression  to  their  political  or  theological  dis- 
sent. 

In  Venice  there  are  three  buildings  significantly  joined 
together,  and  each  bears  its  own  peculiar  testimony  to  the 
decline  of  oppression.  The  first  is  the  basilica  of  St. 
Mark,  that  noble  creation  of  Byzantine  art  on  which  Rus- 
kin  has  lavished  so  much  praise.  The  next  is  the  palace 
of  the  Doges,  so  closely  connected  with  it  that  the  chief 
of  the  government  could  pass  from  his  regal  home  to  the 
place  of  worship  without  exposing  himself  to  the  public 
view;  and  the  third  is  the  prison  bound  to  the  palace  by 
the  ever-famous  Bridge  of  Sighs.  Here  we  have  in  stone 
the  suggestive  symbol  of  the  hated  alliance  which  wrought 
so  much  mischief  to  society.  Whenever  the  church  and 
state  are  banded  together,  the  darkness  and  horror  of  the 
prison  are  inevitable.  But  in  our  times  the  Italian  hierar- 
chy is  practically  dissevered  from  the  Italian  government, 
and  St.  Mark's  attracts  the  curious  tourist  more  than  it 
does  the  devout  worshiper.      The  palace  of  the  Doges  and 


252  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

of  the  mysterious  Council  of  Ten  is  converted  into  a  pic- 
ture gallery  and  museum,  and  the  prison  is  devoted  to 
criminals,  not  to  saints;  while  from  their  hinges  the  doors 
have  been  torn  by  the  outraged  people  from  the  dungeons 
beneath  the  palace,  in  which  so  many  noble  men  and 
women  suffered  unjustly,  and  in  whose  dampness  and 
gloominess  so  many  foul  deeds  were  perpetrated. 

Florence  rejoices  in  its  sacred  temple  of  St.  Croce, 
enriched  with  memorials  to  departed  greatness.  Among 
the  monuments  are  two  which  mutely,  but  distinctly,  pro- 
claim the  revolution  that  has  taken  place  in  human  senti- 
ment regarding  the  rights  of  conscience.  They  are  reared 
to  the  memory  of  Dante,  who  was  banished  to  Ravenna, 
and  there  died,  and  Galileo  Galilei,  who  was  hounded 
mercilessly  by  the  Inquisition.  The  tomb  of  the  astrono- 
mer, who  was  execrated  by  the  church,  represents  him 
with  a  telescope  in  one  hand,  and  with  a  diagram  of  the 
earth  in  the  other;  a  ladder  above  him  reaches  to  the 
heavens,  denoting  his  aspiring  intellect;  and  two  burn- 
ing vases  symbolize  the  immortality  of  his  fame.  Who 
would  have  been  mad  enough  to  predict,  when  he  trem- 
blingly bowed  before  the  authority  of  the  haughty  Roman 
church,  that  he  would  ever  be  honored  with  such  a  tribute 
within  the  walls  of  one  of  her  most  stately  edifices  ?  Nev- 
ertheless, what  would  then  have  been  considered  a  wild 
dream  has  been  accomplished;  and  between  the  lines  of 
his  epitaph  may  be  read  the  undeniable  fact  that  freedom 
of  thought  and  of  speech  has  gloriously  triumphed. 

While  it  is  a  cause  of  congratulation  that  the  victory 
is  thus  pronounced,  it  is  not  yet  possible  to  claim  that  it 
is  absolutely  complete.  The  old  spirit  of  persecution  is 
not  yet  quite  dead.  It  asserts  itself  still,  as  occasion 
serves,  in  the  decrees  and  deeds  of  the  Papacy,  and  some- 
times peers  forth  undisguised  in  the  words  and  works  of 
Protestantism.     Bigotry,  intellectual  narrowness,  and  ig- 


MODERN    BIGOTRY.  253 

norant  prejudice,  if  not  as  common  as  in  the  past,  are 
altogether  too  frequent  for  unalloyed  satisfaction  to  be 
felt  in  the  present.  Although  it  is  readily  conceded  that 
no  church  is  infallible,  and  that  no  body  of  men  have 
mastered  the  om)ie  scibile,  as  a  Princeton  Review  writer 
phrases  it,  and  although  it  is  expected  that  new  light  will 
be  evolved  from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  it  is  a  very  hazardous 
undertaking  for  an  adventurous  teacher  to  run  counter  to 
the  received  opinions  of  the  majority,  or  to  advocate  what 
the  fathers  failed  to  formulate.  There  is  enough  intoler- 
ance in  the  religious  world  to  make  the  position  of  such 
a  man  exceedingly  uncomfortable.  Supposing  that  he  is 
not  guilty  of  heresy,  and  that  his  presentation  of  truth 
differs  more  in  form  than  in  substance  from  what  is  gen- 
erally received,  or  that  it  is  simply  a  development  and  a 
carrying  to  a  higher  plane  the  doctrines  that  are  currently 
accepted,  nevertheless,  his  boldness  and  progressiveness 
will  alarm  conservatives  and  arouse  their  antagonism. 
Even  questions  of  a  lower  order,  which  pertain  to  the 
domain  of  expediency,  and  which  confessedly  must  be 
decided  by  the  individual,  are  dealt  with  by  some  Chris- 
tians acrimoniously  and  dogmatically.  If  their  brethren 
exercise  their  liberty  in  these  things  the  law  of  charity  is 
quite  forgotten,  and  they  are  denounced  and  derided  in  a 
manner  that  suggests  the  harsh,  rough  ages  when  no  ill- 
usage  was  considered  too  severe  for  the  wicked  wretches 
who  presumed  to  think  and  act  according  to  the  dictates 
of  their  conscience.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  point  out 
the  various  ways,  or  to  chronicle  the  miserable  and  mean 
methods,  by  which  the  attenuated  bigotry  of  modern  times 
seeks  to  maintain  itself;  it  is  enough  simply  to  notice  the 
tenacity  with  which  it  holds  to  life  without  exposing  any 
further  its  ghastly  deformities. 

Professors  of  religion,  however,  are  not  the  only  ones 
in  this  liberalistic  age  who  are  guilty  of  illiberality.     Out- 


254  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

side  of  the  church,  among  those  who  claim  to  be  the 
special  champions  of  free  thought,  and  who  are  constantly 
sneering  at  the  narrowness  of  Christ's  disciples,  dogmatism 
in  its  worst  form  reveals  itself.  Infidel  lecturers,  who 
admit  that  they  have  nothing  particularly  definite  or  valu- 
able to  communicate,  breathe  out  their  anathemas  in  a 
manner  worthy  the  Vatican.  Even  men  of  science  are 
sometimes  impatient  and  violent  when  the  soundness  of 
their  theories  is  called  in  question.  It  is  a  matter  of  com- 
mon notoriety  that  Virchow,  because  he  has  had  the  moral 
courage  to  say  that  the  descent  of  man  from  the  ape  has 
not  been  substantiated,  is  hooted  and  howled  at  by  the 
advanced  evolutionists  of  Germany.  And  his  experience  is 
identical  with  that  of  others  who  have  had  the  temerity  to 
challenge  the  claims  of  an  hypothesis,  whose  facts  are  very 
largely  fancies,  and  whose  fancies  are  pretty  generally  fatui- 
ties. The  lamented  Mr.  James  T.  Fields  describes  an  im- 
pressive scene  that  was  enacted  at  a  meeting  of  the  French 
Institute  in  1798.  St.  Pierre,  the  author  of  that  delightful 
book,  Paul  and  Virginia,  was  requested  to  present  a  paper 
on  the  question  "What  institutions  are  the  most  proper  to 
form  a  basis  for  public  morals  ?  "  He  undertook  the  work, 
and  embodied  in  it  his  own  deep  convictions  regarding  the 
iiulispensableness  of  piety.  His  colleagues  were  avowedly 
skeptical  and  atheistical,  and  were  not  prepared  to  wel- 
come an  expression  of  religious  sentiment.  When  he  read 
his  <\ssay  the  Institute  became  violently  agitated,  and  on 
the  mention  of  God's  name  the  entire  body  seemed  to  lose 
its  composure  and  self-control.  St.  Pierre  was  mocked, 
insulted,  threatened.  One  member  sneeringly  inquired 
when  had  he  seen  God.  Others  offered  to  fight  him, 
thai  the  sword  might  decide  whether  or  not  such  a  Being 
existed;  while  others  derided  his  advanced  years,  insinu- 
ating  that  he  had  come  to  his  second  childhood;  and  yet 
another,  more  furious  than  the  rest,  threateningly  cried  out, 


BIGOTRY   OF   PHILOSOPHERS.  255 

"I  swear  that  there  is  no  God,  and  I  demand  that  his 
name  never  again  be  pronounced  within  these  walls." 
Just  think  of  a  company  of  scholars,  pledged  to  the  cause 
of  liberty,  unable  to  restrain  their  fanatical  hatred  of 
Christianity,  and  betrayed  by  it  into  a  course  of  conduct 
as  indecent  as  it  is  intolerant.  In  the  presence  of  such  a 
humiliating  spectacle,  it  is  only  fair  to  conclude  that 
bigotry  is  not  peculiar  to  the  church,  but  is  possible  and 
frequent  in  every  other  department  of  thought  and  life, 
and  that  even  the  profession  of  extreme  charitableness  is 
far  from  being  an  assurance  of  its  possession  or  consistent 
exercise. 

But,  while  this  vice  should  be  condemned  wherever  it 
is  found,  it  is  not  to  be  concluded  that  Liberalism  in  its 
theories  and  practical  workings  is  entitled  to  unqualified 
praise.  It  is  far  from  being  an  unmixed  good.  Bishop 
Ken  said  of  it,  many  years  ago:  "  It  is  the  common  sewer 
of  all  heresies  imaginable;"  and  his  Grace  of  London,  in 
1850,  declared  it  to  be  a  sea  without  a  shore,  having  no 
polar  star  to  guide  those  who  embark  on  it  but  the  uncer- 
tain light  of  reason.  Mr.  Mallock,  who  has  thoroughly 
studied  its  various  phases,  in  his  New  Republic  gives  a 
not  very  flattering  account  of  its  character.  He  makes 
Leslie  say,  when  criticising  Dr.  Jenkinson's  sermon: 
"  You  forget  that  Dr.  J's  Christianity  is  really  a  new  firm 
trading  under  an  old  name,  and  trying  to  purchase  the 
good  will  of  the  former  establishment;"  to  which  Herbert 
responds:  "It  is  simply  our  modern  Atheism  trying  to 
hide  its  own  nakedness  for  the  benefit  of  the  more  prudish 
part  of  the  public  in  the  cast-off  grave-clothes  of  a  Christ 
who,  whether  He  be  risen  or  no,  is  very  certainly  not 
here."  Possibly  this  is  an  extreme  view  of  the  situation; 
but  no  one  can  read  the  amiable  latitudinarian  sentiments 
of  Dean  Stanley,  or  the  beautiful  indefiniteness  of  Mat- 
thew Arnold,  or  the   yet   graver  looseness   of  a  London 


256  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

divine,  who  recently  proposed  the  formation  of  a  Chris- 
tian fraternity  with  Christianity  left  out,  and  not  perceive 
that  the  drift  is  toward  a  charity  that  disregards  prin- 
ciple, that  imperils  truth,  and  that  threatens  to  substitute 
license  for  liberty.  From  the  writings  of  these  brilliant 
men,  and  from  other  works  in  circulation  that  treat  the 
question  more  or  less  completely,  it  seems  legitimate  to 
infer  that  Liberalism  regards  itself  as  the  only  estimable 
thing  in  the  universe,  and  as  the  only  thing  having  rights 
which  everyone  should  respect.  Faithfulness  to  God's 
truth,  conscientious  convictions,  devotion  to  law  and 
order,  it  esteems  as  of  secondary  moment,  and  not  to  be 
brought  into  comparison  with  its  own  more  vital  interests. 
They  who  differ  from  its  teachings  it  stigmatizes  as 
bigots,  and  they  who  decline  to  give  aid  and  comfort  to 
its  hazy  notions,  because  they  believe  them  to  be  per- 
nicious, it  characterizes  as  persecutors;  and  then  becomes 
as  blind,  obstinate,  and  ungenerous  in  its  own  assump- 
tions and  defense  as  it  conceives  its  adversaries  to  be  in 
their  resistance  to  its  encroachments.  Evidently  there  is 
something  wrong  in  all  this.  Exaggeration  and  perver- 
sion exist  somewhere.  If  this  is  the  animus  of  modern 
Liberalism,  it  is  as  unattractive  as  ancient  bigotry;  and 
one  could  hardly  have  a  choice  between  them.  They  are 
both  fatal  to  religious  growth  and  influence.  If  bigotry 
may  be  likened  to  a  rifle  that  murders  with  a  single  bullet 
the  spiritual  susceptibilities  of  our  nature,  Liberalism  may 
be  compared  to  a  shot-gun,  which,  with  its  numerous 
leaden  pellets,  can  hardly  fail  to  hit,  tear,  and  slaughter. 
The  only  discernible  choice  between  them  is  the  prefer- 
ence one  may  have  between  being  pierced  or  riddled. 

In  the  New  Testament,  and  particularly  in  the  chapters 
from  which  the  texts  introducing  this  study  are  derived, 
the  law  of  charity,  as  binding  on  churches  and  individuals, 
is  very  clearly  stated  and  very  fully  discussed.     "  He  that 


THE    LAW    OF    CHARITY.  257 

is  weak  in  the  faith  is  to  be  received" — received  into  fel- 
lowship, but  not  to  "doubtful  disputations,"  or  not  to  the 
impugning  of  motives  and  criticism  of  doctrines.  Judged  by 
what  follows,  the  apostle  has  special  reference  to  ritual  and 
traditional  observances,  which  Jewish  Christians  esteemed 
very  highly,  and  desired  their  fellow-disciples  to  honor. 
The  principle  involved,  however,  seems  to  me  susceptible 
of  a  wider  application.  Their  attitude  toward  the  cere- 
monial must  have  been  occasioned  by  their  view,  or  their 
conception  of  Christianity  as  a  system.  That  it  was  a 
faulty  view  the  entire  argument  of  the  apostle  implies, 
and  yet  he  is  prepared  to  fraternize  with  those  who  held 
it.  If  their  divergence  from  the  Faith  is  not  perfectly  an- 
alogous, it  is  fairly  comparable  to  that  which  is  not  infre- 
quently met  with  in  our  times.  In  every  congregation  there 
are  those  who  entertain  grave  doubts  regarding  some 
rules  governing  the  administration  of  ordinances,  or  some 
interpretations  of  important  Scriptures.  Nevertheless,  be- 
cause they  are  not  in  full  accord  with  the  majority  they 
are  not  to  be  treated  as  the  enemies  of  truth.  They  are 
to  be  received,  but  not  to  any  kind  of  disputation  or 
wrangling.  While  they  are  entitled  to  respect,  they,  in 
their  turn,  are  not  to  despise  others.  Toward  each  other 
they  are  to  exercise  mutual  toleration;  and  here  is 
brought  to  light  what  toleration  always  presupposes  — 
namely,  differences.  It  is  an  impossible  grace  where  there 
is  no  disagreement.  Is  it  not  a  solecism  to  speak  of  toler- 
ating the  presence  or  the  opinions  of  one  with  whom  we 
have  no  controversy  ?  And  yet  professors  of  religion  fre- 
quently use  the  term  in  this  meaningless  manner.  They 
claim  to  be  tolerant,  and  would  wax  indignant  at  any  in- 
timation to  the  contrary;  and  yet  when  an  actual  case  of 
dissidence  occurs,  even  on  points,  such  as  amusements, 
over  which,  in  general,  the  church  has  no  control,  or  on 
moot-doctrines,  such  as  the  degree  and  nature  of  inspira- 
17 


258  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

tion,  the  philosophy  and  limits  of  atonement,  and  the 
precise  character  and  extent  of  retribution,  they  are 
censorious  in  their  judgments,  and  are  prepared  to  adopt 
the  extremest  measures.  This  is  not  charity.  While 
charity  "rejoiceth  in  the  truth,"  it  "  beareth  all  things, 
believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all 
things";  but  that  which  beareth  nothing,  whatever  else 
it  may  be,  certainly  is  not  charity.  To  call  it  by  so  sacred 
a  name  is  like  denominating  that  quality  courage  which 
parades  itself  in  the  season  of  safety  but  cowers  and 
trembles  on  the  approach  of  danger. 

Nor  should  it  be  overlooked  that  this  grace  ever  leads 
its  possessor  to  sacrifice  his  own  liberty  for  the  good  of 
others.  He  will  be  careful  not  to  put  a  stumbling-block 
or  an  occasion  to  fall  in  his  brother's  way.  The  man  who 
has  an  appetite  for  strong  drink  may  have  no  right  to  de- 
mand that  the  temperate  shall  abstain,  and  he  may  be 
very  dictatorial  and  absurd  in  his  reasoning;  nevertheless, 
charity  will  constrain  the  Christian,  if  his  example  may 
cause  another  to  offend,  quietly  and  unostentatiously  to 
refrain.  A  disciple  of  Christ  will  realize  deeply  that  it  is 
not  his  special  business  to  care  for  himself,  or  proudly  to 
stand  for  his  own  rights,  but  to  aid  his  fellow-beings; 
and  if  such  service  can  be  better  rendered  by  avoiding 
antagonism  with  what  his  broader  vision  sees  to  be 
ignorant  prejudice,  he  will  rather  in  the  spirit  of  tolera- 
tion yield  to  the  unreasonable  than  diminish  his  power  for 
good.  "  For  meat "  he  will  not  "  destroy  the  work  of 
God;"  but  "will  seek  the  profit  of  many,  that  they  may 
be  saved." 

But  the  exercise  of  this  grace  is  not  without  limita- 
tions. On  the  one  side  the  individual,  remembering  what 
Paul  has  said  regarding  his  supreme  responsibility  to  God, 
will  not  allow  himself  to  be  coerced  by  the  conscience  of 
other    people    into    conformity  with    ideas    and    practices 


DUTY   OF   THE   CHURCH.  259 

which  are  unauthorized  by  clear  Scripture  warrant,  even 
though,  as  a  matter  of  expediency  and  in  the  enjoyment 
of  liberty,  he  may  be  willing  to  adopt  them.  Here  he 
finds  the  limit  to  his  toleration;  as  Coleridge  puts  it,  it  is 
limited  by  the  intolerance  of  others.  And,  on  the  other 
side,  the  church  as  a  body,  recalling  the  stress  everywhere 
laid  by  the  sacred  writers  on  the  importance  of  truth,  on 
the  duty  of  contending  earnestly  for  the  faith,  on  the  obli- 
gation to  walk  in  holiness  and  in  every  way  worthy  of  the 
Christian  vocation;  and  remembering  the  exhortation  of 
the  apostle  "to  give  none  offense,"  or,  rather,  to  cause 
none  to  offend,  the  church  itself  being  included,  and  "  to 
follow  after  the  things  which  make  for  peace,  and  things 
wherewith  one  may  edify  another,"  may  not  without 
guilt  permit  such  radical  divergence  from  the  precepts, 
doctrines,  and  ordinances  of  the  gospel  as  would  set  at 
naught  these  obligations.  While  she  has  no  warrant  to 
insist  on  subscription  to  man-made  definitions,  or  to 
demand  a  strict  adherence  to  the  letter  of  her  creed  if  its 
spirit  is  honestly  maintained,  or  to  exact  such  slavish  sub- 
mission to  her  teachings  as  would  render  investigation  a 
crime,  she  is  bound  to  forbid  such  departure  from  them  as 
would  wreck  her  unity,  undermine  her  vitality  and  over- 
throw her  authority.  Liberality  is  here  hedged  in  by  the 
higher  law  of  faithfulness.  It  is  always  easier  to  be  liberal 
than  it  is  to  be  true.  When  that  which  the  church 
represents,  and  which  she  is  set  to  defend,  is  imper- 
iled by  the  disloyalty  of  members,  either  in  faith  or  in 
practice,  toleration  becomes  a  crime  against  the  Headship 
of  Christ  and  the  welfare  of  humanity.  Its  limits  have 
been  reached.  The  church  must  clear  herself  of  all  com- 
plicity with  the  evil-doers.  Charity  to  them  means 
cruelty  to  the  world.  Up  to  this  point  she  should  bear  and 
forbear;  up  to  the  promulgating  of  doctrines  subversive 
of  her  essential  nature,  and  destructive  of  her  unity,  she 


260  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

should  patiently  endure;  but  when  that  point  is  passed, 
the  only  recourse  left .  is  —  separation.  "How  can  two 
walk  together  unless  they  be  agreed  ?" 

This,  as  I  understand  it,  taken  in  connection  with  the 
more  general  and  fully  accepted  principle  that  the  civil 
government  has  no  authority  to  regulate  religious  belief, 
is  New  Testament  Liberalism.  But  that  which  sails  under 
this  flag  in  our  day  is  something  very  different,  and  some- 
thing whose  influence  cannot  but  be  regarded  as  preju- 
dicial to  Christianity. 

Its  questionable  tendency  may  be  inferred  from  its  an- 
tagonism to  definite  statements  of  truth.  Among  its  ad- 
vocates the  opinion  prevails  that  Christ's  teachings  are 
fluid,  susceptible  of  various  meanings,  and  comparable 
more  to  music  than  to  doctrine.  Hear  Stopford  Brooke 
on  this  point :  "  Neither  you  nor  I  can  say  of  that  air  of 
Mozart's  that  it  means  this  or  that.  It  means  one  thing 
to  me,  another  thing  to  you.  It  leaves,  however,  an  in- 
definite but  similar  impression  upon  us  both, —  a  sense  of 
exquisite  melody  which  soothes  life,  a  love  of  a  life  in  har- 
mony with  the  impressions  made,  and  an  affection  for  the 
man  who  gave  us  so  delicate  an  emotion.  So  it  is  with 
the  words  of  Christ.  The  understanding  cannot  define 
them;  the  spirit  received  them,  and  each  man  receives 
them  in  accordance  with  the  state  of  his  spirit."  This, 
of  course,  is  meant  to  be  complimentary  to  "  Him  who 
spake  as  never  man  spake; "  but  in  my  judgment  it  is  just 
the  reverse.  If  it  means  anything  it  means  either  that 
Jesus  had  no  truths  to  make  known  and  hid  the  emptiness 
of  His  message  beneath  glittering  generalities,  or  that  He 
was  Dot  skillful  enough  to  embody  His  thoughts  in  lan- 
guage. 1  am  not  willing  to  accept  either  reflection  on 
His  fitness  to  be  the  world's  prophet,  especially  when  it 
is  evident  that  they  who  accuse  Him  of  indefiniteness  are 
seeking,  at  His  expense,  to  justify  their  own  rejection  of 


VALUE    OF    DOGMA.  261 

the  cardinal  doctrines  of  Christianity.  If  it  could  for  one 
moment  be  admitted,  it  would  follow  that  religion  has  no 
specific  faith,  and  consequently  its  claims  to  be  an  intel- 
ligible system  would  be  absurd. 

Is  it  not  possible  for  every  clear  idea  to  be  accurately 
stated  ?  and,  if  it  is  to  be  communicated,  must  it  not  be 
stated  ?  and  if  it  is  thus  stated,  does  it  not  become  a  doc- 
trine ?  Now,  what  objection  can  there  be  to  such  an  ex- 
pression of  what  is  really  believed  ?  Scientists,  philoso- 
phers and  legislators  would  never  expect  to  enrich  the 
race  with  practical  knowledge  if  they  were  to  adopt  a 
gushing,  loose,  sentimental  style.  They  aim  at  exactness, 
dogmatic  exactness,  and  we  would  not  have  it  otherwise. 
How  can  it  be  hoped  that  religious  knowledge  can  be  suc- 
cessfully imparted  in  any  other  way  ?  Indeed,  I  do  not 
suppose  that  anyone  really  thinks  that  it  can.  How- 
ever liberal  a  teacher  may  be,  he  does  not  hesitate  to 
affirm  his  faith  in  God,  and  it  is  only  when  he  comes  to 
doctrines  which  he  cannot  accept  that  he  begins  to  talk 
his  vague  nonsense  about  "  slavish,  arrogant,  and  barren 
dogma."  But  we  are  not  deceived;  it  is  not  the  verbal 
proposition  he  dislikes,  it  is  the  idea  it  conveys.  Then  let 
him  just  say  so.  Let  him  say,  I  reject  such  or  such  a 
doctrine,  because  I  am  convinced  it  is  false,  not  because  it 
is  wrong  to  define  it  accurately.  Were  he  to  do  this  the 
world  would  see  that  the  difference  between  him  and 
other  Christians  is  not  in  the  breadth  of  their  generous- 
ness,  but  in  the  range  of  their  belief.  But  as  it  is,  his 
unguarded  denunciation  of  dosnna  is  calculated  to  leave 
on  the  mind  of  the  people  the  impression  that  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  Christian  truth,  or,  at  least,  nothing  specific 
enough  to  be  of  any  particular  value. 

Such  an  effect,  surely,  is  to  be  deplored.  Modern  Lib- 
eralism claims  that  it  is  more  interested  in  conduct  than 
in  creed.     So  is  orthodoxy.     But  can  it  be  proven  that 


262  ISMS  OLD   AND   NEW. 

the  one  is  independent  of  the  other  ?  I  venture  to  say 
that  it  cannot.  Back  of  every  noble  life  there  are  prin- 
ciples which  have  fashioned  it.  I  am  not  going  to  say 
that  these  principles  must  be  identical  with  the  evangel- 
ical faith,  though  I  think  it  would  be  better  if  they  were; 
but  only  that  they  must  be  adequate.  Every  worthy 
character  has  its  basis  in  truth,  as  the  most  enduring 
structure  has  its  foundation  in  the  rock.  Now  my  objec- 
tion to  Liberalism  is,  not  that  it  cannot  subscribe  to  evan- 
gelical teachings,  but  that  its  antagonism  to  definitions, 
consistently  followed,  involves  all  that  it  may  suggest  for 
the  guidance  of  life  in  such  indistinctness  and  doubt  that 
principles  of  any  kind  must  be  impossible.  That  this  is 
its  influence  may  be  inferred  from  the  lax  morality  which 
is  developing  on  every  side.  Every  religious  community 
feels  the  presence  of  this  Ism  more  or  less  potently,  and 
in  proportion  as  it  is  felt  indifference  to  obligation  is  pain- 
fully manifest.  And  never  may  we  hope  for  a  change 
until  truth  is  restored  to  its  lawful  place  in  the  life,  and 
its  dogmatic  specificness,  as  well  as  its  authority,  is  can- 
didly acknowledged. 

The  questionable  tendency  of  genial  laxity  may  also  be 
inferred  from  its  incompatibility  with  order.  God  evi- 
dently dislikes  confusion,  fitfulness,  and  irregularity;  for 
everywhere  in  the  universe  we  discover  their  opposite. 
Southey  has  said,  "  Order  is  the  sanity  of  the  mind,  the 
health  of  the  body,  the  peace  of  the  city,  the  security  of 
the  state;"  and  Carlyle  has  declared  that  "disorder  vera- 
cious created  nature,  even  because  it  is  not  chaos  and  a 
waste-whirling  fantasm,  rejects  and  disowns."  When 
carelessness  prevails  in  the  home  there  will  be  boisterous 
tongues,  fretfulness,  neglect,  and  general  untidiness  and 
unthriftiness;  when  it  obtains  in  the  state  there  will  be 
distrust,  oppression,  insurrections,  and  hourly  danger  to 
life   and   property;    and   when    it   is   transferred   to   the 


THE   QUESTION   OF   ORDER.  263 

church  there  will  be  contentions,  impatience,  grumbling; 
inconsistency  in  life  and  indefiniteness  in  aim;  or  having 
repudiated  government,  doctrines  and  ordinances,  there 
may  be  sweetness  and  sentimentality,  but  there  will  be 
little  consecration  or  concentration  in  religious  work. 
Verily,  as  Hooker  said  many  years  ago,  "  Of  law  there  can 
be  no  less  acknowledged  than  that  her  seat  is  the  bosom 
of  God,  her  voice  the  harmony  of  the  world:  all  things  in 
heaven  and  earth  do  her  homage,  the  very  least  as  feeling 
her  care,  and  the  greatest  as  not  exempt  from  her 
power." 

The  primary  assumption  of  latitudinarians  that  the 
church  should  be  a  common  receptacle  for  all  kinds  of  con- 
tradictory teachings  and  speculations  is  utterly  destructive 
of  everything  like  order.  It  may  read  beautifully  in  theory; 
but  what  does  it  actually  mean  in  practice  ?  To  realize  such 
an  ideal  one  of  two  conditions  must  be  complied  with  — 
either  the  members  must  consent  to  have  no  ideas  or  they 
must  agree  never  to  express  them.  But  if  they  have 
none,  an  organization  is  superfluous,  for  there  is  nothing 
of  sufficient  interest  to  draw  them  together;  and  if  they 
have  some,  and  fail  to  avow  them,  it  is  still  difficult  to  see 
how,  without  either  object  or  motive,  they  could  effect 
anything  like  an  organic  union.  Then  supposing  that 
they  have  convictions,  differing  as  radically  as  those 
which  now  separate  various  denominations  of  Christians, 
and  honestly  express  them,  and  conscientiously  believe 
that  religious  effort  should  be  determined  by  them,  how 
can  strife,  contention,  and  the  consequent  paralysis  of 
endeavor  be  avoided  ?  If  it  shall  be  suggested  that  every 
member  of  the  church,  with  those  who  may  sympathize 
with  him,  would  work  as  his  conscience  dictates,  and 
others  could  do  the  same,  no  possible  advantage,  but  only 
disadvantage,  would  accrue  to  the  whole  body  from  the 
arrangement.     It  would  simply  be  another  form  of  exist- 


264  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

ing  sectarianism,  with  this  difference,  that  the  sects  would 
all  be  represented  in  one  single  community,  and  the  close- 
ness of  their  intimacy,  and  the  antagonisms  to  which  their 
conflicting  interests  would  give  rise,  would  render  any- 
thing like  government  impracticable.  Thus,  there  seems 
to  be  an  insurmountable  difficulty  in  the  way  of  attaining  to 
order  on  the  basis  of  Liberalism.  Now,  what  the  world 
requires  to-day  is  something  more  than  diffusive  and  senti- 
mental good  nature.  It  needs  philanthropic  effort,  concen- 
trated and  well-directed  endeavor,  which  can  only  proceed 
from  bodies — bodies  complete  and  in  substantial  har- 
mony. Sin  is  in  earnest,  crime  is  intensely  so,  and  they 
both  strengthen  their  hold  on  humanity  by  evil  confed- 
eracies, and  at  least  are  strong  enough  to  defy  the  attacks 
of  such  undisciplined  forces  as  Liberalism  can  bring  into 
the  field.  If  Christianity  is  to  succeed,  it  must  be  in  ear- 
nest, too,  and  if  it  is,  then  it  must  build  up  organizations 
on  a  definite  faith,  having  a  common  aim,  and  a  united 
heart.  Only  through  such  means  can  it  expect  to  prevail 
against  the  foes  which  swarm  around  it,  seeking  its  utter 
overthrow. 

Believe  me,  we  shall  attain  more  speedily  the  harmony 
of  views,  and  the  victory  over  evil  which  we  all  so  long  to 
achieve  by  faithfulness  than  by  this  perversion  of  charity. 
So  much  is  now  said  in  praise  of  this  latter  grace  that  we 
have  quite  overlooked  the  higher  and  nobler  one  —  Faith- 
fulness. And  yet  it  is  the  heroic  quality  —  that  to  which 
we  can  trace  not  only  the  preservation,  but  the  progress 
of  religion;  that  which  sheltered  the  infant  church,  de- 
fended her  purity  from  tyrants,  and  guarded  her  life  from 
corruption.  How  many  volumes  have  been  written  to 
record  the  victories  of  freedom,  of  prayer,  of  love,  and 
how  much  has  even  been  ascribed  to  the  unsettling  influ- 
ence of  infidelity.  Doubtless  they  all  have  been  potent; 
but  the  deeds  of  Faithfulness  will  compare  with  any  of 


THE  THREAD  OF  HONOR.  265 

them.  It  was  Faithfulness  that  saved  Christianity  when 
threatened  by  the  Empire,  that  rescued  it  from  Romanism, 
and  that  delivered  it  from  Secularism.  But  for  her  it 
would  have  been  exterminated  by  the  one,  paganized 
by  the  other,  and  thoroughly  corrupted  by  the  third. 
Faithfulness  defied  the  emperors,  sang  her  song  to  the 
accompaniment  of  growling  lions  in  the  arena,  wrote  her 
belief  on  dungeon  walls,  and  shouted  it  amid  the  hiss 
and  the  roar  of  martyr-fires.  Faithfulness  prayed  when 
others  cursed,  circulated  the  gospel  while  others  slept, 
contended  for  every  inch  of  the  ground  with  error,  detect- 
ed its  devices,  resisted  its  encroachments,  thrust  her  bleed- 
ing form  in  the  way  of  its  progress,  and  when  crushed,  rose 
again  to  pluck  from  its  hand  the  victory  it  had  nearly  won. 
Let  this  magnificent  record  assure  you  that  your  usefulness 
will  be  measured  by  your  loyalty  more  than  by  your  liber- 
ality, and  that  your  success  in  overcoming  the  enemies  of 
Christ,  and  in  harmonizing  His  friends,  will  depend  more 
on  your  fidelity  to  principle  than  on  your  tolerance  of  error. 
Both  graces  are  of  the  highest  moment;  but  let  it  never  be 
overlooked  that  the  beautifying  one  is  charity,  while  the 
practical  one  is  faithfulness.  So  sublime  is  this  virtue  that 
it  excites  admiration  even  in  its  enemies.  Frederick  Rob- 
ertson, when  illustrating  the  poetic  sentiment  in  conduct, 
describes  how  a  company  of  soldiers  wTere  separated  from 
their  command  among  the  mountains  of  India,  and  how 
they  were  butchered  by  the  hill  tribes.  When  their  bodies 
were  found,  around  the  wrist  of  each  dead  soldier  was  tied 
a  red  thread,  a  tribute  which  the  savage  foe  had  paid  to 
their  valor.  It  signified  that  the  men  fell  at  their  post, 
and  by  fidelity  had  won  this  red  thread  of  honor.  Singu- 
lar treatment  this,  but  not  uncommon.  Whenever  Faith- 
fulness has  shown  herself  in  this  feculent  wTorld  she  has 
been  pelted  with  mud.  Literary  scullions,  reputationless 
hirelings,  the  low  camp-followers  of  vice  and  degradation, 


266  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

have  never  hesitated  to  chase  her  up  and  down  the  streets 
and  trample  her  in  the  mire.  Nor  may  she  ever  look  for 
a  more  kindly  reception  while  society  remains  the  coarse 
and  vulgar  and  ungenerous  thing  that  it  is.  But  it  is  not 
for  her  to  be  dismayed.  In  patience  she  must  possess  her 
soul.  The  hounds  may  bay  on!  The  devils  may  howl  !  No 
devil  yet  has  ever  been  able  to  stamp  out  the  glory  of 
an  angel's  plumage;  and  no  breath  of  slander  and  no 
attack  of  calculating  maliciousness  shall  ever  perma- 
nently stain  the  robe  of  Faithfulness  or  mar  her  beauty. 
Enemies  may  assault  her;  they  may  cast  her  body  into 
the  vale  beneath  the  height  on  which  she  dwells;  but 
even  in  their  dastard  hearts  there  will  be  found  a  lurk- 
ing admiration  for  what  they  cannot  imitate;  for  while 
they  curse  they  will  twine  the  red  thread  of  honor  round 
her  wrist.  They  cannot  but  reverence  what  they  would 
destroy;  and  future  generations,  when  these  enemies  lie 
ignobly  forgotten  in  the  dust,  will  rise  up  and  call  her 
blessed, —  and  motive  this  for  every  heart  to  give  her 
loyal  entertainment. 


FORMALISM. 


"  The  good  Lord  pardon  everyone  that  prepareth  his  heart  to 
seek  God,  the  Lord  God  of  his  fathers,  though  he  be  not  cleansed 
according  to  the  purification  of  the  sanctuary."       2  Chron.  xxx,  19. 

"  Ceremony  leads  her  bigots  forth, 
Prepared  to  fight  for  shadows  of  no  worth ; 
While  truths  on  which  eternal  things  depend 
Find  not,  or  hardly  find,  a  single  friend; 
As  soldiers  watch  the  signal  of  command, 
They  learn  to  bow,  to  kneel,  to  sit,  to  stand ; 
Happy  to  fill  religion's  vacant  place 
With  hollow  form,  and  gesture,  and  grimace." 

Cowper. 

WHEN  Goethe  was  a  boy  the  controversies  which 
agitated  religious  circles,  and  which  resulted  in  the 
secession  from  the  established  church  of  the  Separatists, 
Pietists,  and  Moravians,  impressed  his  precocious  mind 
very  deeply,  and  led  him  to  devise  a  worship  of  his  own. 
The  young  priest  felt  that  the  Almighty  should  not  be 
approached  through  ecclesiastical  ceremonies,  but  through 
the  things  which  He  had  made;  and  yet,  instead  of  com- 
muning directly  with  Him  through  nature,  he  patterned 
after  the  very  ritualists  from  whom  he  dissented,  and 
reared  unto  Him  an  artificial  altar.  A  red-lacquered  music- 
stand,  beautifully  ornamented,  and  rising  like  a  four-sided 
pyramid,  was  chosen  as  the  foundation  of  his  pious  work. 
This  he  covered  with  ores  and  other  natural  curiosities, 
crowning  the  summit  with  a  fine  porcelain  saucer,  from 
which  he  desired  a  flame  to  ascend  emblematical  of  the 
heart's  aspirations.  How  to  produce  this  flame  occasioned 
him  some  perplexity;  but  at  last  his  ingenuity  suggested 

267 


268  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

the  use  of  fumigating  pastiles,  which,  though  they  would 
only  sputter  and  sparkle,  would  at  least  emit  a  pleasant 
fragrance.  The  arrangements  being  perfected,  and,  kin- 
dling his  pastiles  one  fine  morning,  with  the  aid  of  a 
burning-glass,  he  performed  his  devotion  in  an  edifying 
manlier,  and  to  his  own  entire  satisfaction.  But  the 
course  of  worship,  like  that  of  true  love,  is  not  always 
smooth,  and  Goethe  found  that  his  experiment  was 
doomed  to  meet  with  ignominious  disaster.  Undertaking 
to  repeat  his  adorations,  he  discovered,  when  too  late, 
that  the  porcelain  dish  had  been  removed,  and  that  his 
aromatic  cones  must  be  placed  directly  on  the  upper  sur- 
face of  the  music-stand.  In  that  position  they  were  kin- 
dled, and  the  result  was  that  they  mercilessly  burned  into 
the  red  lacquer  and  the  gold  flowers,  sadly  and  ineffaceably 
marring  the  beautiful  and  valuable  work  of  art.  The 
effect  of  the  mischief,  as  may  easily  be  imagined,  was  not 
conducive  to  piety.  What  the  youth  said  on  the  occasion 
is  not  recorded;  but  in  his  Autobiography,  where  this 
narrative  in  his  own  words  is  found,  we  have  the  following 
reflections  on  the  occurrence:  "The  spirit  for  new  offer- 
ings was  gone,  and  the  accident  might  almost  be  consid- 
ered a  hint  and  warning  of  the  danger  there  always  is  in 
wishing  to  approach  the  Deity  in  such  a  way." 

Had  the  boy  been  content  to  draw  near  to  God  by  "  the 
true  and  living  way,"  in  lowliness  and  simplicity,  his  ardor 
would  have  escaped  the  chill  it  experienced  on  account  of 
this  absurd  anti-climax,  and  probably  would  have  saved 
his  manhood  from  moral  blemishes  and  irremediable  mis- 
takes. The  old  saying,  "the  child  is  father  to  the  man," 
was  never  more  completely  verified  than  in  the  case  of 
Goethe.  He  was  essentially  artistic  in  his  tastes.  His 
religion  was  testhetical,  not  ethical  and  devotional.  In 
after  yours  we  recognize  in  his  writings  the  spirit  of  the 
boy-ritualist.     He  has  passed  from  altar-building  to  litera- 


CEREMONY    AMONG    SAVAGES.  269 

ture,  and  yet  his  literature  is  a  kind  of  altar,  reared,  how- 
ever, more  to  nature  than  to  God.  It  seems  impossible 
for  him  to  rise  higher  than  the -outward  and  visible;  and 
when  his  pages  gleam  with  religious  sentiments  we  find 
that  they  are  excited  by  the  sublime  and  beautiful  in 
God's  works,  and  not  by  any  deep  discernment  of  what 
God  is  in  Himself.  His  toy-worship  is  indeed  abandoned 
forever,  but  he  remains  in  heart  to  the  end  a  formalist; 
delighting  in  creation,  his  genius  thrilling  with  its  won- 
ders, but  never,  apparently,  rejoicing  in  the  Creator,  or 
feeling  the  influences  of  His  spirit. 

Humanity  at  large  in  this  respect  is  not  very  unlike  the 
poet-philosopher.  From  its  infancy  to  the  present  it  has 
manifestly  tended  toward  some  species  of  ceremonialism, 
or  mere  outwardness;  has  inclined  toward  the  multiplicity 
of  observances  ;  and  in  magnifying  their  value  beyond 
measure,  it  has  frequently  lost  sight  of  the  realities  and 
the  essence  of  religion.  Herbert  Spencer,  in  one  of  his 
latest  works,  has  very  amply  shown  that  punctilious  cour- 
tesy and  minute  formality  in  social  and  national  relations 
do  not  mark  the  highest  civilization;  but  that  among  such 
savage  people  as  the  Ashantees  and  Loangoes  they  receive 
the  most  scrupulous  attention.  Thus,  "  in  the  kingdom  of 
Uganda,  where,  directed  by  the  king  to  try  a  rifle  present- 
ed to  him  by  Speke,  a  page  went  to  the  door  and  shot  the 
first  man  he  saw  in  the  distance;  and  where,  as  Stanley 
tells  us,  under  the  last  king,  Suna,  five  days  were  occupied 
in  cutting  up  thirty  thousand  prisoners  who  had  surren- 
dered, we  find  that  an  officer  observed  to  salute  infor- 
mally is  ordered  for  execution,  while  another,  who,  per- 
haps, exposes  an  inch  of  naked  leg  while  squatting,  or  has 
his  mbiKjii  tied  contrary  to  regulations,  is  condemned  to 
the  same  fate."  This  excessive  respect  for  the  trivialities 
of  social  intercourse,  and  the  heartlessness  exhibited  in 
maintaining  their  authority,   indicate    that    among  these 


270  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

people  ceremony  is  substituted  for  politeness,  and  the 
symbols  of  reverence  for  its  spirit.  A  similar  inversion 
makes  up  what  we  mean  by  Formalism  in  religion  —  the 
sign  is  taken  for  the  thing  signified,  and  the  soul  is  satis- 
fied with  the  name  instead  of  the  substance  —  as  one  might 
be  content  to  live  on  the  menu  instead  of  the  meal.  When 
the  church  service  is  composed  of  innumerable  and  unin- 
telligible rites,  which  burden  the  conscience  without  re- 
fining the  heart;  and  when  its  rubric  prescribes  the  precise 
manner  in  which  devotion  shall  find  expression,  we  have 
Formalism.  When  Brother  Martin  finds  the  priests,  who 
have  just  been  conducting  mass,  laughing  and  joking  at 
the  credulity  of  their  flock,  to  employ  no  harsher  term,  he 
has  an  exhibition  of  Formalism;  and  wThen  the  sacred 
duties  which  spring  from  our  relations  with  the  Supreme 
and  with  each  other  are  fulfilled  as  a  matter  of  course  and 
from  sheer  necessity,  or  when  the  simplest  worship  is  per- 
formed from  worldly  motives,  and  emptied  of  all  sympathy 
and  interest,  Formalism  is  as  apparent  as  it  is  in  him  who 
smiles  his  congratulations  through  hyena  eyes,  snarls  his 
compliments  through  canine  teeth,  and  commends  his  love 
with  the  serpent's  clammy,  slimy  touch.  This  is  Formal- 
ism, and  toward  it  there  is  an  ever-recurring  trend. 

It  is  met  in  connection  with,  perhaps,  every  historical 
faith.  The  simple  cult  of  the  Veda  was  crushed  beneath 
the  weight  of  Brahminical  observances;  the  primitive  free- 
dom of  Buddhism  fell  a  prey  to  Lamaistic  superstitions; 
the  pious  feelings  of  the  Romans  were  strangled  by  the 
rigid  clutch  of  prosaic  divinities;  the  Greek  religion,  which 
was  conquered,  like  their  country,  in  the  hands  of  its  new 
adherents  degenerated  into  endless  mummeries  and  theat- 
rical pomposities;  the  spirituality  of  Judaism  was  at  last 
fatally  hampered  with  the  dead  body  of  narrow,  literalistic 
and  bigoted  pharisaism;  while  Christianity  itself,  the  most 
unfettered  of  all  systems,  and  requiring  more  heart  in  its 


ROMANISTS   AND    PROTESTANTS.  271 

service  than  any  other,  has  been  equally  distorted  and 
travestied  by  ritualists  on  the  one  hand,  and  by  nominal- 
ists on  the  other.  To-day  the  empire  of  faith  suffers  as 
much  from  this  cause  as  from  any  that  can  be  specified. 
Romanists  announce  a  salvation  which  is  inseparable  from 
ceremonial  observance,  and  have  so  interblended  and  inter- 
mixed ritual  with  ethics  that  it  is  next  to  impossible  for 
an  ordinary  mind  to  discriminate  between  them.  While 
the  coherence  of  this  organization  is  wonderful;  for,  judged 
by  what  is  known  of  it  in  Europe  and  America,  it  is  a  vast 
and  complicated  machine,  well  oiled  with  promises  of  eter- 
nal felicity,  it  affords  very  little  opportunity  for  the  free 
play  of  the  heart.  Indeed,  whatever  degree  of  heartiness 
is  in  it  is  there  as  a  foreign  element,  unprovided  for  in  its 
arrangements,  and  unnecessary  to  their  execution.  High- 
churchism  errs  in  the  same  direction,  if  not  to  the  same 
extent,  while  the  various  Protestant  bodies,  though  wisely 
and  rightly  discarding  the  temptation  to  formality  which 
exists  elsewhere,  have  not  altogether  escaped  from  its 
deadening  influence. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that  it  is  possible,  even  where 
the  forms  are  few,  bare  and  unassuming.  For  instance, 
when  a  creed  is  upheld  by  one  who  has  no  deep,  genu- 
ine and  practical  belief  in  what  it  teaches,  or  when  the 
importance  of  intellectual  subscription  is  exaggerated 
over  soul  affiliation,  how  shall  this  be  justly  character- 
ized? Or,  if  the  plainest  dress  is  worn  as  a  badge 
of  distinction,  for  the  empty  purpose  of  asserting  un- 
worldliness,  and  the  significance  of  the  garment  be  for- 
gotten in  the  transactions  of  ordinary  life,  what  name 
ought  to  be  applied  to  such  inconsistency?  Or,  still 
further,  if  ordinances  are  looked  upon  as  talismans  and 
charms,  and  substituted  for  the  blessings  they  denote;  if 
the  lips  are  eloquent  with  praise  while  the  heart  is  far 
from  God;  and  if  the   service  of  the  sanctuary  becomes 


272  ISMS  OLD   AND   NEW. 

frigid,  stiff,  and  perfunctory, —  the  echo  from  a  sepulcher, 
and  the  rattle  of  a  fleshless  corpse,  —  how  shall  such  a 
shoaly,  skinny,  viscerated  piety  be  described?  Each  of 
these  questions  is  answered  by  a  single  term,  "Formal- 
ism;" for  evidently  we  confront  in  each  of  these  cases 
what  the  Savior  condemns  in  the  pharisees  who  paid 
"  tithe  of  mint,  and  anise,  and  cummin,  while  they  neglect- 
ed the  weightier  matters  of  the  law,  judgment,  mercy,  and 
faith." 

Against  this  evil  the  Scriptures  constantly  utter  their 
warning.  They  do  so  even  when  urging  compliance  with 
all  the  outward  requirements  of  religion.  Certainly  they 
are  far  from  treating  contemptuously  the  ordinances  or 
duties  which  have  been  solemnly  sanctioned  by  the  Spirit. 
These  externals  have  their  place  in  the  divine  economy, 
and  they  are  neither  to  be  treated  with  disrespect  nor 
ignored.  We  are  exhorted,  at  least  by  implication,  to 
"  keep  the  ordinances  as  they  were  delivered "  to  us,  to 
"  maintain  the  form  of  sound  words,"  and  to  be  faithful  to 
the  profession  made  before  many  witnesses.  Nor  is  it 
practicable  altogether  to  dispense  with  shadows,  symbols, 
and  particular  observances.  "  It  is  difficult,"  says  the 
Greek  philosopher,  "  fully  to  exhibit  greater  things  with- 
out the  aid  of  patterns;  "  and  Lord  Bacon  insists  on  "the 
indispensableness  of  similitudes."  Figures  in  action,  as 
well  as  of  speech,  are  the  means  by  which  our  faith  reveals 
itself,  asserts  and  communicates  its  message  to  mankind. 
It  is  impossible  to  teach  without  words,  which  are  the 
signs  of  ideas;  and  it  is  equally  so  to  sustain  an  organiza- 
tion without  some  recognized  external  order,  or  to  conduct 
divine  worship  without  some  appropriate  ceremony.  These 
things  give  definiteness,  shape  and  expression  to  beliefs, 
thoughts  and  convictions,  which,  apart  from  them,  would 
be  somewhat  indistinct  to  their  possessors,  and  totally 
valueless,  because  intangible,  to  the  world.     Consequently 


SPIRITUALITY   OF   THE   HEBREWS.  273 

the  New  Testament,  as  well  as  the  Old,  has  its  laws,  rites, 
and  symbols.  It  describes  a  church  which  is  not  air- 
built,  vague,  or  phantom-like,  but  a  substantial,  well- 
founded,  and  visible  institution.  It  is  clothed  upon  with 
a  body,  and,  though  in  comparison  with  the  opaque  Jewish 
dispensation  it  may  be  a  very  transparent  one,  it  is  yet  as 
real  as  the  texture  of  the  crystal  through  whose  flinty 
pores  the  light  streams,  and  in  whose  rocky  heart  it  de- 
lights to  dwell.  And,  to  follow  this  illustration,  the 
church,  like  the  unflawed  crystal,  while  it  has  a  definite 
form,  is  permeable  with  spiritual  light,  and  is  to  be  careful 
neither  to  obstruct  its  incoming,  nor  its  indwelling  and 
outgoing. 

This  duty  was  not  entirely  overlooked  among  the 
ancient  Jews.  Though  their  religion  was  eminently  ritual- 
istic,—  and,  remembering  the  peculiarity  of  their  position, 
we  ought  not  to  be  surprised  that  it  was, —  their  prophets 
frequently  taught,  and  their  most  notable  men  discerned, 
that  the  ceremonial,  however  important,  was  secondary  in 
value  to  the  spiritual,  and  subordinate  to  its  culture.  The 
Psalms  of  David  may  be  taken  as  fairly  exhibiting  the 
recognition  of  this  distinction.  There  we  meet  with  praises 
and  prayers  which  have  been  appropriated  by  the  devout 
of  all  ages  as  the  language  of  their  heart's  deepest  and 
loftiest  experiences. 

From  the  chronicle  of  which  our  text  is  part  we  have 
an  instance  of  enlightened  discrimination  in  this  direction. 
Hezekiah  summoned  the  people  to  Jerusalem  to  keep  the 
Passover,  but  many  of  them  had  no  opportunity  to  comply 
with  the  ceremonial  requirements  which  qualified  for  par- 
ticipation, and  consequently  they  approached  the  solemn 
rite  in  what  is  described  as  an  unsanctified  condition. 
But  on  this  account  they  were  not  thrust  aside.  The 
king  realized  the  vital  significance  of  the  celebration  to 
Israel,  and,  under  the  circumstances,  permitted  anyone  to 
18 


274  ISMS   OLD    AXD    NEW. 

come  who  prepared  his  heart,  though  "  he  had  not  been 
cleansed  according  to  the  purification  of  the  sanctuary." 
He  did  not  question  the  binding  authority  of  the  ceremo- 
nial law  which  had  been  neglected;  for  he  prays  that  all 
who  are  unable  to  keep  it  might  be  pardoned;  but  he  does 
not  exalt  it  to  such  a  height  as  to  leave  the  impression 
that  its  observance  outweighed  in  value  the  preparation  of 
the  heart.  In  this  estimate  he  but  follows  the  judgment 
of  Samuel,  who  said  that  to  "obey  is  better  than  sacri- 
fice, and  to  hearken  than  the  fat  of  rams;  "  and  anticipated 
Isaiah,  who  in  ringing  words  denounced  the  formal  fasting 
that  failed  "to  loose  the  bands  of  wickedness,  to  undo  the 
heavy  burdens,  to  let  the  oppressed  go  free,  and  to  break 
every  yoke."  Moses  also  distinguished  between  the  letter 
and  the  spirit;  for  he  urged  the  people  to  circumcise  the 
foreskin  of  the  heart,  as  did  Jeremiah  in  another  age;  and 
the  promises  of  God  maintained  in  the  nation  a  distinct 
recognition  of  the  superior  glory  of  the  latter. 

Christianity  was  announced  in  language  such  as  this: 
"And  it  shall  come  to  pass  afterward  that  I  will  pour  out 
my  spirit  on  all  flesh;  and  your  sons  and  your  daughters 
shall  prophesy,  your  old  men  shall  dream  dreams,  your 
young  men  shall  see  visions;"  "I  will  pour  water  upon 
him  that  is  thirsty,  and  floods  upon  the  dry  ground;  I  will 
pour  my  Spirit  upon  thy  soul,  and  my  blessing  upon  thine 
offspring;  "  and  that  these  predictions  might  be  accom- 
plished the  Savior  said:  "  It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go 
away,  for  if  I  go  not  away  the  Comforter  will  not  come 
unto  you;  but  if  I  depart  I  will  send  Him  unto  you." 
Peter,  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  announced  that  this  sacred 
pledge  had  been  fulfilled:  "  Therefore,  being  by  the  right 
hand  of  God  exalted,  and  having  received  of  the  Father 
the  promise  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  He  hath  shed  forth  this, 
which  ye  now  see  and  hear;"  and  Paul,  contrasting  the 
Jewish   economy  with  the  Christian,  and  having  hi  view 


THE   LAW    OF    PROPORTIONS.  275 

the  comparative  freedom  of  the  latter  from  ritual,  and  its 
completer  possession  of  the  Sanctifier,  calls  it  "  the  minis- 
tration of  the  Spirit."  These  representations  from  both 
Testaments,  combined  with  our  Lord's  solemn  warnings 
uttered  on  the  Mount  against  formality,  and  Paul's  de- 
scription of  it  as  a  "  form  of  godliness,  denying  the  power 
thereof,"  are  enough  to  show  that  this  is  a  tremendous 
evil;  one  that  is  to  be  resisted,  and  one  from  whose  influ- 
ence the  Almighty  is  seeking  our  deliverance. 

Possibly  we  may  be  brought  into  closer  sympathy  with 
the  Divine  mind  on  this  subject  by  examining  the  true 
relations  of  form  to  spirit,  the  limitations  governing  them, 
and  the  reasons  why  they  should  be  conscientiously  recog- 
nized and  respected. 

First,  it  seems  evident  that  form  should  adequately 
express,  but  never  obscure,  the  spiritual.  Just  as  too 
many  words  hide  the  idea  they  are  designed  to  convey, 
and  just  as  excess  of  light  blinds  the  eyes  it  is  ordained  to 
illuminate,  so  too  numerous  ceremonials  darken  the  truth 
which  they  are  supposed  to  adumbrate.  We  know  there 
is  a  kind  of  choir  music  which  fails  to  excite  in  the  heart 
emotions  of  praise,  because  it  appeals  overwhelmingly 
to  artistic  appreciation.  Were  it  less  operatic  it  would 
be  more  devotional  in  its  influences.  Congregational 
singing  has  this  to  be  said  in  its  favor,  that  as  all 
share  in  it  no  one  can  easily  lapse  into  the  position  of 
critic;  and  however  inharmonious  and  inmelodious  it  may 
be,  and  unfortunately  it  is  generally  both,  as  it  is  the 
effort  of  each  individual  to  worship,  it  stimulates  devout- 
ness  in  spite  of  discord.  As  music  may  so  charm  the  ear 
that  its  religious  value  is  measurably,  if  not  totally,  lost, 
so  elaborate  rites  challenge  so  powerfully  the  sense  that 
they  fail  to  penetrate  and  influence  the  soul.  Hence,  it 
has  been  observed  that  in  proportion  as  ceremonial  observ- 
ances are  multiplied  spirituality  declines.     Of  the  truth  of 


276  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

this  position  such  countries  as  Spain,  Italy,  and  Mexico, 
long  subject  to  the  sway  of  a  sacerdotal  system,  afford 
abundant  proof.  With  them,  for  many  centuries,  religion 
has  been  so  much  a  matter  of  form  that  they  have  lost 
sight  of  its  spiritual  aspects,  and  in  doing  so  have  deterio- 
rated in  other  respects.  Victor  Hugo,  arraigning  the 
church  of  Rome  on  the  charge  of  blighting  the  nations 
where  her  superstitious  observances  have  been  most  intol- 
erantly enforced  and  most  abjectly  obeyed,  points  to  the 
two  great  Catholic  centers,  and  says:  "Look  at  the  first 
of  these  lands,  Italy,  the  mother  of  genius  and  of  nations, 
which  has  spread  over  the  world  the  most  brilliant  marvels 
of  poetry  and  art;  Italy,  which  taught  mankind  to  read, 
knows  not  how  to  read.  Gaze  on  Spain,  which  received 
from  the  Romans  her  first  civilization,  from  the  Arabs  her 
second,  and  from  Providence  a  world,  —  America!  But 
Rome  has  robbed  her  of  the  secret  power  which  she  had 
from  the  Romans,  the  genius  of  art  which  she  had  from 
the  Arabs,  and  the  world  which  she  had  from  God."  Do 
you  remind  me  that  the  Frenchman,  in  this  invective,  is 
laying  stress  on  the  persecuting  spirit  of  the  Papacy? 
Granted;  but  this  very  spirit  is  the  outgrowth  of  ritual- 
ism. Beneath  its  weight  the  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  of 
conscience  and  charity,  was  deadened,  and  in  its  j)lace 
arose  that  haughty  intolerance  which,  drenching  itself  in 
blood,  furnishes  the  best  of  reasons  for  restricting  outward 
observances  to  their  God-appointed  limits. 

Among  the  Jews,  as  I  have  already  intimated,  types, 
shadows,  symbols,  prevailed  beyond  what  is  authorized  by 
Christianity.  This  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that 
Judaism  was  a  preparative  system.  It  was  God's  ordained 
instrumentality  for  the  introduction  of  certain  fundamental 
ideas  into  the  world,  for  which  there  existed  no  adequate 
verbal  equivalents,  and  which  had  to  be  revealed  through 
visible  institutions  and  picturesque  enactments.     The  ideas 


SIGNIFICANCE    OF   SYMBOLS.  277 

of  "holiness,"  "atonement,"  "mediation,"  were  thus  im- 
ported and  fixed,  and  then  the  ceremonies  which  had  per- 
formed this  service,  like  nuggets  of  gold,  were  melted  and 
coined  into  words,  which  retain  the  significance  derived 
from  them  to  this  day.  When  the  end  for  which  they  had 
been  set  apart  was  accomplished  they  were  dispensed  with 
as  henceforward  unnecessary,  and  in  their  place  came  the 
written  gospel  which  is  given  to  every  man  "  to  profit 
withal."  This  corresponds  to  the  truth,  as  the  letter  does 
to  the  type,  and  the  study  of  its  teachings  ministers  to 
holiness.  Christianity  also  has  a  few  expressive  signs  that 
appeal  to  the  senses,  and  through  them  to  the  heart.  It 
has  symbolical  rites,  such  as  baptism  and  the  Lord's  sup- 
per; and  it  has  ethical  and  pietistical  forms,  such  as  alms- 
giving, prayer  and  praise,  which  may  properly  be  thus 
characterized,  as  they  have  definite  visibility.  All  of  these 
are  so  closely  related  to  important  religious  truths  that, 
when  properly  honored,  they  become  their  vehicle  and 
their  mirror.  Thus  praise  and  prayer  suggest  the  ideas 
of  human  dependence  and  of  divine  providence;  alms- 
giving, the  surrender  of  self  and  its  possessions  to  the 
service  of  God  and  man;  baptism,  the  resurrection  of 
Christ  with  all  it  imports,  and  the  Supper,  the  twin  mys- 
teries of  incarnation  and  atonement.  But  when  these  acts 
are  exaggerated,  perverted  or  degraded,  they  obscure  the 
system  which  they  were  appointed  to  irradiate.  When 
baptism  is  administered  to  adult  or  child  as  a  means  of 
salvation,  how  seriously  is  the  grace  of  God  narrowed  and 
impugned;  when  the  Lord's  Supper  is  given  with  a  similar 
end  in  view,  how  is  the  atonement  of  Christ  caricatured 
and  darkened;  or  when  almsgiving  and  other  excellent 
works  are  credited  with  so  much  merit  that  the  Almighty 
may  become  debtor  to  the  creature,  what  a  grievous  mis- 
representation of  religion  is  imposed  upon  the  world. 
Under  the   circumstances   the   outward  aspects  of  Chris- 


278  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

tianity  become  a  curse;  for  generating  errors,  sanctioning 
monstrous  absurdities,  and  burdening  the  conscience,  they 
tend  to  alienate  thoughtful  men  from  its  support  and  to 
debase  those  who  sustain  its  authority.  These  considera- 
tions indicate  the  importance  of  proportioning  aright  the 
symbol  to  the  substance,  and  of  sacredly  conserving  the 
design  of  its  institution.  Only  in  this  way  can  it  be  of 
service  to  the  truth,  and  as  it  is  contrary  to  common  sense 
and  Scripture  to  suppose  that  it  might  have  been  estab- 
lished for  any  other  reason,  the  obligation  to  restrict  it  to 
its  legitimate  sphere  and  office  is  imperative. 

Secondly,  it  seems  equally  clear  that  form  should  effect- 
ively supplement,  but  never  subordinate,  the  spiritual. 
We  know  how  the  solemnities  of  public  worship  intensify 
devotion,  how  acts  of  charity  tend  to  deepen  benevolence, 
how  verbal  confessions  strengthen  faith,  how  ordinances 
vivify  belief,  and  how  religious  acts  in  general,  undertaken 
with  genuine  heartiness,  contribute  to  growth  in  grace 
and  to  advancement  in  the  life  divine.  When  the  out- 
ward thus  waits  upon  the  soul,  ministering  to  its  sanctifi- 
cation,  we  feel  that  it  is  conforming  to  heaven's  plan. 
But  when  it  rejects  this  lowly  but  useful  mission,  and  in- 
sists on  its  claims  at  the  expense  of  the  spiritual,  it  mani- 
festly transgresses  its  prerogative.  The  Scriptures  teach 
that  the  spirit  of  the  gospel  is  worth  more  than  the  letter; 
that  Christ  Himself  must  henceforward  be  known  "  not 
after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  spirit";  and  that  the  inner 
motive  prompting  a  sacrifice  is  of  greater  value  than  the 
measure  of  the  sacrifice  itself,  as  in  the  case  of  the  widow 
whose  mite  outweighed  the  treasury  full  of  gifts  which 
pride  donated  from  its  superabundance.  Moreover,  the 
Savior  intimates  that  whenever  the  interests  of  the  formal 
and  the  spiritual  come  into  collision  the  first  must  give 
precedence  to  the  second.  Thus,  for  instance,  when  He 
does  good  on  the  Sabbath  day,  His  defense  is  not  that  the 


MAGNIFYING   THE    SPIRITUAL.  279 

fourth  commandment  is  abrogated,  but  that  ritual  is  sec- 
ondary in  importance  to  philanthropy.  "  The  Sabbath 
was  made  for  man,  not  man  for  the  Sabbath."  It  was 
appointed  for  his  welfare  and  happiness;  but  if  some  regu- 
lation regarding-  the  observance  must  under  no  circum- 
stances be  violated, —  if  the  house  that  is  on  fire  may  not 
be  rescued  on  the  Sabbath,  nor  the  ship  that  is  drifting 
on  the  rocks  be  saved, —  then  the  day  ceases  to  be  a  boon 
to  humanity.  Our  Lord  protested  against  this  narrow  in- 
terpretation, as  He  would  against  that  which  could  con- 
demn David  for  eating  the  shewbread  which  was  cere- 
monially forbidden  him.  The  hunger  of  the  psalmist  was 
his  justification  in  setting  aside  a  merely  ritualistic  regu- 
lation, and  Jesus  in  sanctioning  his  conduct  develops  an 
important  principle. 

The  principle  is,  that  the  external  aspect  of  Christian- 
ity should  be  subordinated  to  the  well-being  of  the  soul. 
Thus  if  the  manner  or  method  of  worship  is  found  to  work 
detrimentally,  we  may  order  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  pro- 
mote the  end  it  is  designed  to  secure.  A  failure  to  do 
this,  because  our  fathers  cherished  it,  or  because  venerable 
men  arranged  it,  evinces  a  sentimentalism  bordering  on 
superstition,  which  will  parch  and  wither  the  religious  life. 
If  we  confront  a  positive  ordinance,  such  as  baptism,  which 
we  have  no  right  to  change  as  we  have  the  man-appointed 
regulations  of  worship,  it  should  be  received  only  at  a  time 
when  the  recipient  is  conscious  that  it  will  advance  his 
spirituality.  For  it  to  be  thrust  upon  the  unbeliever  is  to 
exalt  it  unduly,  and  to  invest  it  with  a  rank  that  does  not 
pertain  to  it.  If  one  comes  to  the  Lord's  supper  who  has 
not  complied  with  all  the  orderly  prerequisites,  and  who  is 
impelled  by  a  hunger  of  soul  to  approach  uninvited,  the 
church,  while  she  does  not  approve  his  irregularity,  yet, 
lest  a  too  rigid  enforcement  of  the  ritual  may  be  inter- 
preted   adversely    to    her    charity,    and    may    in   sonic   way 


280  ISMS  OLD   AND   NEW. 

injuriously  affect  the  applicant,  is  bound  to  remember  that 
David  ate  the  shewbread,  which  was  ceremonially  unlaw- 
ful for  him  to  eat,  and  not  inderdict  the  coming  of  one  to 
the  Lord's  table  whose  hunger  is  even  deeper  than  his. 
Were  this  principle  generally  recognized,  and  generally 
accepted  as  a  guiding  rule,  there  would  be  more  freedom 
and  more  fervid  delight  in  God's  service  everywhere,  and 
less  danger  of  falling  into  listless,  perfunctory  and  exact- 
ing ceremonialism.  It  would  deepen  the  impression  that 
soul  preparation  is  more  important  than  anything  else, 
and  then  care  would  be  bestowed  primarily  on  that,  and 
everything  else  being  held  subordinate,  we  should  approx- 
imate in  all  of  our  congregations  to  that  worship  which  is 
bounded  neither  by  Jerusalem  nor  Gerizim,  but  which  is 
as  broad  as  the  Savior's  love,  and  which,  in  its  essence,  is 
spirit  and  truth, — "For  God  is  a  Spirit,  and  they  that 
worship  Him  must  worship  Him  in  spirit  and  in  truth." 

Thirdly.  It  also  seems  reasonable  that  form  should 
sufficiently  adorn,  but  never  supersede  or  supplant,  the 
spiritual.  Within  proper  limits,  especially  those  suggested 
already,  it  is  eminently  fitting  that  we  should  invest  both 
the  Christian  church  and  Christian  character  with  what- 
ever may  enhance  their  beauty.  Works  of  righteousness 
attractive  in  themselves  may  receive  an  added  grace  from 
the  manner  in  which  they  are  wrought.  These  constitute 
the  ritual  of  individual  daily  life,  and  when  they  are  per- 
formed thoughtfully,  gently,  sweetly,  they  influence  as 
much  by  their  loveliness  as  by  their  worth.  There  is 
indeed  a  kind  of  moral  worth  in  beauty,  to  which  the  con- 
science instinctively  renders  homage.  No  man  can  afford 
to  be  good  uncouthly  or  carelessly.  There  are  types  of 
piety  that  repel;  some  that  are  gunpowderish,  sensitive 
and  explosive;  others  that  are  tomahawkish,  sharp  and 
censorious,  and  yet  others  that  are  edgeless,  indefinite  and 
colorless.    These  specimens,  naturally  enough,  are  disliked, 


THE   BEAUTY    OF   HOLINESS.  281 

and  they  are  but  a  little  in  advance  of  that  which,  for 
reasons  satisfactory  to  itself,  determines  that  its  good 
shall  never  be  evil  spoken  of,  by  doing  no  good  whatever 
to  call  forth  remark.  As  the  individual  is  not  to  be  indif- 
ferent to  the  beautiful,  so  neither  should  the  church.  Her 
house  of  worship  may  be  as  imposing  and  attractive  as  art 
can  make  it,  as  long  as  the  investment  yields  an  adequate 
profit  in  spiritual  results,  and  the  outlay  can  be  afforded 
by  the  congregation.  The  public  offices  of  worship  should 
be  rendered  impressive  and  satisfactory  to  refined  taste  as 
well  as  to  devout  impulses,  provided  always,  as  has  already 
been  argued,  that  they  do  not  obscure  the  essentials  of 
Christianity.  No  other  rule  upon  this  point  can  be  laid 
down.  This  simple  restriction  will  jDrove  sufficient  to 
guard  against  excess,  and  when  it  is  respected,  the  beauty 
of  holiness  will  never  jeopardize  the  integrity  of  holiness. 

It  is  surely  unnecessary  to  add  that  no  perfection  of 
the  form  will  be  accepted  by  God  as  a  substitute  for  the 
reality.  The  one  cannot  supersede  the  other;  and  of  the 
two,  the  second  is  preferable  and  indispensable.  If  ye 
fast  to  be  seen  of  men,  if  ye  pray  to  be  praised  of  men,  if 
ye  give  to  be  honored  by  men,  verily  ye  have  your  reward. 
Ye  seek  human  approval,  and  "  he  that  soweth  to  the  flesh 
shall  of  the  flesh  reap";  were  ye  to  purpose  these  things 
in  your  heart,  and  perform  them  unto  God,  God  would 
not  forget  your  self-denying  labor  of  love.  The  service  of 
the  lip  and  the  empty  sacrifice  of  the  body  the  Almighty 
does  not  regard.  As  in  the  days  of  Samuel,  He  judges 
not  by  the  countenance  or  stature,  but  by  the  heart,  and 
if  other  motive  were  wanting,  this  ought  to  be  sufficient 
to  convince  us  that  Formalism  is  a  dreary,  worthless  piece 
of  theatricality,  from  which  every  genuine  soul  should 
turn  away  with  scorn  and  contempt. 

Sometimes  when  near  the  sea  I  have  been  sadly  im- 
pressed with  the  dry,  stunted,  dwarfed  and  naked  trees 


282  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

struggling  to  preserve  their  hold  on  life  amid  barren 
wastes  and  in  the  chill,  brackish  air.  On  the  island  known 
as  Martha's  Vineyard  I  have  frequently  wandered  among 
the  thin,  attenuated  oaks, —  meager  shadows  of  their  giant 
brotherhood, —  and  have  mourned  the  bitterness  of  their 
heritage.  Their  wretched  branches  in  one  direction  bent 
seem  to  reveal  a  desire  to  break  from  their  rootage  and 
escape  the  storm;  while  their  ragged  foliage,  whitened  by 
the  flying  sand  and  the  dust  of  pulverized  shells,  proclaims 
that  their  enemy  has  prevailed  against  them,  imparting  to 
them  the  visage  of  death,  and  shrouding  them  for  the  grave 
before  they  have  quite  perished  from  the  earth.  Alas!  for 
the  poor,  miserable,  tattered,  discolored  and  faded  "cum- 
berers  of  the  ground."  Perhaps  than  themselves  there 
is  nothing  more  pitiable  in  this  pitiable  world,  unless  it  is 
that  which  they  appropriately  figure, —  a  soulless,  sapless, 
shriveled  church.  Seeking  to  thrive  in  a  worldly  atmos- 
phere, rooted  in  barren  professions,  bearing  no  fruit,  and 
maintaining  only  the  semblance  of  existence,  such  a 
church  cannot  long  survive.  It  will  soon  wear  the  com- 
plexion of  death;  speedily  will  its  gorgeous  ritual  become 
as  the  mummy's  rags,  and  its  beauty  expire  as  the  moth. 
Over  such  a  withered,  emaciated,  undersized  representa- 
tive of  Christianity  one  could  weep  for  very  shame,  and 
pray  for  some  good  woodman's  ax  to  smite  the  pigmy,  or 
some  burst  of  Heaven's  indignation  to  level  it  with  the 
earth.  God  grant  that  our  unuttered  prayer  may  be 
answered,  and  that  for  every  lifeless  church  destroyed, 
one  may  spring  up  which  shall  be  like  the  tree  described 
by  Daniel, — "whose  height  reached  unto  the  heaven,  and 
the  sight  thereof  to  all  the  earth;  whose  leaves  were  fair, 
and  the  fruit  thereof  much,  and  in  it  was  meat  for  all; 
under  which  the  beasts  of  the  field  dwelt,  and  upon  whose 
branches  the  fowls  of  heaven  had  their  habitations." 

Hegel  assumes  that,  while  "the  artist  makes  for  the 


THE  SUPREME  REQUIREMENT.  283 

expression  of  his  spiritual  conceptions  stones,  colors  and 
sensuous  forms,"  the  idea  is  of  paramount  importance, 
and  must  be  in  the  mind,  even  though  unconsciously, 
before  it  can  be  presented  for  the  contemplation  of  others. 
In  applying  this  principle  to  Greek  art  he  shows  "that 
the  human  being  elaborated  his  physical  being  in  free, 
beautiful  movements  before  the  attempt  was  made  to  give 
them  expression  in  marbles  or  paintings."  The  archetype 
of  all  subsequent  triumphs  with  chisel  and  brush  origi- 
nated in  the  development  of  the  body,  was  naturally  trans- 
ferred to  the  mind,  and  from  thence  reproduced  itself  in 
plastic  stone.  Such  also  is  the  sublime  law  of  Christ's 
kingdom.  "Ye  must  be  born  again,"  is  its  primary  and 
supreme  requirement.  When  the  moral  nature  receives 
the  divine  image  through  regeneration,  then  will  it  impart 
the  same  to  the  otherwise  lifeless  material  of  public  wor- 
ship and  of  private  duty.  Then  will  it  mold  and  fashion 
the  humblest  ceremony  into  a  heavenly  likeness,  and 
breathe  upon  the  simplest  acts  a  heavenly  grace.  First, 
the  soul  must  be  spiritual,  then  it  will  spiritualize  every- 
thing about  it,  and  the  ideal  kingdom  be  realized.  There- 
fore I  close  this  discussion  with  one  appeal,  one  repre- 
sentation, one  distinct  assertion,  the  echo  of  our  Lord's 
own  words  to  Nicodemus,  and  which  points  the  way,  not 
merely  to  personal  peace  and  usefulness,  but  to  the  funda- 
mental condition  of  spirituality,  without  which  the  church 
is  as  a  whitecl  sepulcher  and  as  a  tinkling  cymbal : — 
"Ye  must  be  born  again." 


DEISTOMINATIONALISM. 


"  But  now  are  they  many  members,  yet  but  one  body."    1  Gov.  xiit  20. 

"  Here  all  the  rage  of  controversy  ends, 
And  rival  zealots  rest  like  bosom  friends; 
An  Athanasian  here  in  deep  repose 
Sleeps  with  the  fiercest  of  his  Arian  foes; 
ISocinians  here  with  Calvinists  abide, 
And  thin  partitions  angry  chiefs  divide ; 
Here  wily  Jesuits,  simple  Quakers  meet, 
And  Bellarmine  has  rest  at  Luther's  feet. 
Great  authors,  for  the  church's  glory  fired, 
Are,  for  the  church's  peace,  to  rest  retired ; 


For  most  she  fears  the  controversial  pen, 
The  holy  strife  of  disputatious  men ; 
Who  the  blest  gospel's  peaceful  page  explore, 
Only  to  fight  against  its  precepts  more." 

George  Crabbe. 

THERE  is  a  widespread  impression  that  the  denomina- 
tionalism  of  Christianity  and  the  conflicts  of  doc- 
trinal opinion  within  the  limits  of  its  different  sects  seri- 
ously militate  against  its  super-mundane  origin  and  char- 
acter. On  this  ground  Lord  Herbert  attempted  to  justify 
his  Theism;  and  in  the  judgment  of  many  did  so  with 
remarkable  force,  if  not  with  entire  success.  And  Vol- 
taire also,  in  his  Dictionary,  with  shrewd  skill  and  sar- 
castic sharpness,  wrote:  "There  is  no  sect  in  geometry, 
mathematics  or  experimental  philosophy.  When  truth  is 
evident  it  is  impossible  to  divide  people  into  parties  and 
factions.  Nobody  disputes  that  it  is  broad  day  at  noon." 
Both   of   these  writers  proceed   on  the   assumption   that 

284 


SECTS   IN   SCIENCE.  285 

moral  questions  should  be  dealt  with  as  we  deal  with 
numbers,  triangles,  polygons  and  circles,  and  that  the 
same  kind  of  certainty  is  to  be  looked  for  in  the  one  case 
as  in  the  other.  But  this  is  unreasonable.  There  is  a 
broad  distinction  in  kind  between  these  departments  of 
inquiry,  which  necessarily  affects  their  methods  and  their 
conclusions.  Truth  in  the  domain  of  morals  and  religion 
is  more  open  to  debate  than  in  the  physical;  for  it  relates 
to  profounder  and  more  complicated  issues;  is,  in  the  na- 
ture of  things,  more  difficult  of  proof,  and  comes  into 
collision  with  deeper  prejudices  and  intenser  antagonisms. 
These  differences  being  possible  in  the  realm  of  spiritual 
inquiry,  they  easily  account  for  parties  in  the  Christian 
church  without  involving  the  implication  of  Voltaire  that 
they  are  contending  about  that  which  is  radically  false. 

May  it  not  also  be  said  in  answer  to  this  objection  that 
the  alleged  harmony  of  experimental  philosophers  is  more 
fanciful  than  real  ?  There  are  sects  in  science  as  in  re- 
ligion, and  they  are  just  as  uncompromising  and  as  un- 
charitable, and  probably  more  so.  Not  to  weary  you  with 
illustrations  of  this  statement,  permit  me  to  allude  to  one 
which  was  related  to  me  recently  in  the  city  of  Berlin. 
Huxley  and  Owen  quarreled  over  the  brain  of  the  chim- 
panzee. One  of  these  eminent  scientists  contended  that 
the  upper  lobe  extended  over  the  lower,  and  the  other 
denied  it.  Friendship  was  broken  in  consequence  of  this 
disagreement,  and  the  rivals  would  not  acknowledge  each 
other  courteously.  The  war  between  them  was  stern  and 
pronounced,  and  even  the  discovery  that  both  were  correct 
did  not  end  hostilities.  Although  it  was  shown  that  what 
one  gentleman  affirmed  was  true  of  the  male  chimpanzee, 
but  not  of  the  female,  and  that  what  was  affirmed  by  the 
other  was  true  of  the  female  but  not  of  the  male,  concord 
would  not  return.     They  both  continued  to  look  askance 


286  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

and  defiantly  at  each  other,  like  the  famous  servants  of 
the  implacable  and  irreconcilable  Capulets  and  Montagues: 

"  Do  you  bite  your  thumb  at  me,  sir  ?" 

"  I  bite  my  thumb." 

And  in  the  same  spirit  of  sectarianism  Professor  Hux- 
ley criticises  M.  Comte:  "In  so  far  as  my  study  of  what 
specially  characterizes  the  Positive  Philosophy  has  led  me, 
I  find  therein  little  or  nothing  of  any  scientific  value,  and 
a  great  deal  which  is  thoroughly  antagonistic  to  the  very 
essence  of  science  as  anything  in  Ultramontane  Catholi- 
cism. In  fact,  M.  Comte's  philosophy  in  practice  might 
be  compendiously  described  as  Catholicism  minus  Chris- 
tianity." Ah!  Could  the  dead  philosopher  revive  again 
most  likely  he  would  answer  this  stinging  rebuke  with 
scathing  sharpness,  and  entertain  society  with  a  new  ver- 
sion of  the  ancient  feud: 

"  I  serve  as  good  a  man  as  you." 

"No  better?" 

"  Yes,  better,  sir." 

Alarmed  by  the  damaging  inference  drawn  from  their 
divisions,  and  half  persuaded  of  its  cogency,  a  large  num- 
ber of  disciples  insist  on  the  immediate  union  of  all  de- 
nominations. In  their  fright  they  make  some  singular 
proposals,  suggest  the  most  astounding  compromises,  and 
remarkable  theories;  and  may  very  properly  be  called  the 
peace-at-any-price  party.  Some  of  them  are  willing  that 
present  diiferences  of  opinion  and  belief  should  continue, 
if  by  some  happy  device  a  solid  front  can  only  be  present- 
ed to  the  world.  What  they  seem  to  desire  is  that  an  end 
should  be  put  to  all  discord,  at  least  in  appearance. 
Hence  they  have  invented  evangelical  alliances,  great  and 
small  ;  union  societies  and  union  movements,  big  and 
little;  all  valuable  and  desirable  in  their  place,  but  without 
as  yet  accomplishing  anything  very  wonderful.  Others  of 
this  class  are  so  intensely  interested  in  this  cause  that  they 


CHURCH    UNION.  287 

make  the  impression  that  conscientious  scruples  and  moral 
convictions  ought  to  yield  to  its  superior  claims;  and  that 
it  would  be  better  to  narrow  the  circle  of  truth  than  con- 
sent to  perpetuate  the  evils  of  separation.  From  the 
beginning  of  the  Christian  era  there  have  always  been 
worshipers  at  the  altars  of  uniformity;  who  have  regarded 
it  as  the  easiest  thing  imaginable  for  all  persons  to  square 
thought  and  conduct  to  the  requirements  of  a  single  stand- 
ard. These  ecclesiastical  morphologists  have  not  only 
demanded  that  conduct  should  be  conformed  to  the  same 
pattern,  but  that  belief  should  be  cast  in  the  same  mold. 
They  never,  however,  have  succeeded  in  actualizing  their 
ideal.  The  decrees  they  fulminated,  the  persecutions  they 
employed,  and  the  anathemas  they  invoked,  came  short  of 
their  aim.  Religious  people  would  not  think  alike,  would 
not  act  alike,  would  not  fetter  the  free  life  in  them;  but 
persistently  ran  into  all  sorts  of  irregularity,  singularity, 
and  nonconformity.  In  our  time  this  zeal  in  behalf  of 
oneness  has  not  abated;  but  recognizing  the  difficulty  of 
controlling  thought,  in  some  quarters  it  now  pleads  for 
agreement  in  outward  observances  and  ceremonies,  what- 
ever may  be  the  individual  belief.  However  motley,  mul- 
tifarious and  heterogeneous  faith  may  be,  it  is  assumed  that 
practical  submission  to  the  same  forms  would  impart  to 
the  church  that  union  which  was  contemplated  by  the 
Savior,  and  which  for  so  many  reasons  is  desirable.  This 
is  the  present  attitude  of  the  Roman  Catholic  church  and 
of  the  Church  of  England.  A  great  variety  of  opinions 
arc  tolerated  within  their  communions  on  condition  that 
the  ritual  be  faithfully  maintained.  But  this  spirit  of 
compromise  is  looked  upon  as  deplorable  by  a  more  radical 
class,  who  have  not  yet  been  convinced  of  the  utter  impos- 
sibility of  actualizing  the  other  half  of  the  old  strict  con- 
formity theory.  They  do  not  understand  how  any  person 
can   arrive  at  different   conclusions,  in  reading  the  New 


288  ISMS   OLD  AND   NEW. 

Testament,  from  their  own.  Diversity  is  inexplicable,  ex- 
traordinary, monstrous.  They  are  ready  to  ascribe  it  to 
eccentricity,  aberration,  or  something  worse;  and,  forget- 
ting that  they  themselves  are  not  in  entire  accord  with  the 
theology  of  the  past,  they  are  ready,  in  the  interests  of 
union,  to  cut  off  from  their  fellowship  the  members  who 
offend  against  what  they  regard  as  inspired  truth.  But 
however  these  parties  may  dissent  as  to  means  and  meas- 
ures, they  are  all  intent  on  the  unification  of  the  church  in 
some  fashion,  more  or  less  complete.  This,  in  their  judg- 
ment, is  the  supreme  question  of  the  hour,  toward  whose 
solution  they  are  struggling  along  somewhat  confusedly 
and  blunderingly. 

I  am  convinced  that  whatever  of  error  is  involved  in 
the  views  current  on  this  subject  is  largely  due  to  unac- 
quaintance  and  unfamiliarity  with  the  real  law  of  unity  as 
it  is  revealed  in  nature  and  revelation,  and  to  the  failure 
to  recognize  the  degree  and  kind  of  diversity  that  is  not 
only  compatible  with  it,  but  inseparable  from  it. 

If  we  look  upon  the  sky  we  find  it  at  times  overcast 
with  clouds,  which  assume  the  most  varied  and  changing 
shapes.  Now  they  drift  like  fleecy  snow  across  the  ex- 
panse of  blue,  then  wander  slowly  up  and  down,  like 
flocks  of  sheep,  seeking  pasturage  among  the  stars,  and 
shepherded  by  the  gentle  wind;  or  they  are  piled  up  on 
the  horizon's  extremest  verge,  dark  with  storm  and  heavy 
with  tempests,  resembling  some  huge  citadel  frowning  on 
the  peaceful  vale;  or  they  are  spread  out  beneath  the 
glory  of  the  setting  sun,  from  whose  glittering  planes 
majestic  forms  arise,  picturing  to  the  eye  the  beauty  and 
harmony  of  the  heavenly  city,  with  its  streets  of  gold,  its 
gates  of  pearl,  and  its  walls  of  precious  stones.  Their 
transitory  and  fleeting  shapes,  that  now  appeal  to  fear  and 
then  to  fancy,  are  but  sculpturesque,  though  unsculptured, 
figures  of  that  one  element  that  falls  in  the  rain,  gleams 


THE    UNITY    OF    NATURE.  289 

in  the  dew,  and  that  sparkles  in  the  ice-particle.  Here  we 
meet  with  unity  in  diversity,  a  diversity  that  magnifies  the 
unity.      Schiller,  describing  natural  scenery,  writes: 

"  Flowers  of  all  hue  are  struggling  into  glow 
Along  the  blooming  fields ;  yet  their  sweet  strife 
Melts  into  one  harmonious  concord  " ; 

and  in  his  Philosophical  Letters  he  adds:  "Millions  of 
plants  drink  from  the  four  elements  of  nature;  a  maga- 
zine of  supplies  is  open  for  all;  but  they  mix  their  sap  in 
a  thousand  different  ways,  and  return  it  in  a  thousand  new 
forms."  We  cannot,  surely,  have  failed  to  think  of  this 
ourselves,  or  to  have  overlooked  the  kindred  but  deeper 
fact  that  the  endless  variations  of  root  and  leaf  in  each 
particular  plant  are  indispensable  to  the  perfect  fullness 
and  harmony  of  the  flower.  They  all  spring  from  unity, 
and  they  tend  to  unity  again.  And  what  is  true  of  earth's 
floral  beauty  is  true  of  earth  itself.  Mountains  and  val- 
leys, deep,  dark  forests,  wide,  sweeping  prairies,  rocky 
wildernesses  and  grassy  glens,  that  break  the  monotony 
of  its  surface,  are  all  bound  together  in  the  fellowship  of 
matter.  Of  a  common  nature,  they  effect,  through  their 
diversity,  a  common  good.  As  the  mutability  of  clouds 
is  needful  to  shield  the  tender  crops  from  heat,  and  to  be- 
dew them  with  refreshing  moisture,  so  the  irregularities 
of  the  earth  are  inseparable  from  its  habitableness.  Were 
it  not  for  these,  human  beings  could  not  exist  upon  its 
bosom,  and  progress  in  arts  and  sciences  would  be  impos- 
sible. Believe  me,  there  is  not  a  mountain  range  too 
many,  nor  too  long  or  lofty,  not  a  vale  too  wide  or  deep, 
not  a  superfluous  stream  or  ocean,  nor  a  single  region 
whose  essential  character  can  be  changed  with  entire  im- 
punity. So  nicely  ordered,  balanced,  measured,  are  these 
diversities  that  on  their  preservation  rests  the  welfare  of 
the  whole.  Man,  the  tenant  of  this  wondrous  house,  is 
19 


290  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

himself  the  most  notable  illustration  of  this  principle. 
How  like,  and  yet  unlike,  are  the  teeming  millions  that 
make  up  the  race.  No  two  are  identical  in  body  or  in 
soul.  They  are  all  similar,  yet  dissimilar;  they  are' one- 
ness in  manifoldness.  They  possess  in  common  the  same 
nature,  faculties  and  organs,  but  in  degree,  quality  and 
aptitude  how  endlessly  diverse  !  And  who  can  doubt  but 
that  this  very  lack  of  uniformity  has  proven  the  most  po- 
tent factor  in  the  world's  advancement.  It  has  given  us 
our  specialists,  our  statesmen,  poets,  soldiers,  inventors;  it 
has  exalted  our  civilization  by  multiplying  its  departments ; 
it  has  lessened  the  evils  of  life  by  distributing  its  burdens; 
it  has  unified  races  and  nations  by  demonstrating  their 
independence,  and  it  has  stimulated  and  elevated  the  indi- 
vidual by  bringing  him  face  to  face  with  the  competition 
of  the  many. 

"See  how  the  iron  powers  of  thoughtful  skill 
Are  shaped  and  quickened  by  the  fire  of  strife." 

Scientists  are  now  calling  attention  to  the  growing 
diversity  that  may  be  traced  throughout  the  universe. 
The  sidereal  system,  with  its  spiral  and  spherical  nebula?, 
with  its  clusters  of  stars,  ranging  from  two  to  several  thou- 
sand in  number,  they  claim  has  increased  in  heterogeneity 
during  the  long  time  spaces  that  have  elapsed  since  the 
creation.  The  same  fact  is  urged  of  the  earth  in  its  prog- 
ress from  original  chaos.  Fossil  remains  are  said  to  prove 
that  "the  more  heterogeneous  organisms,  and  groups  of 
organisms,  have  been  evolved  from  the  more  homogene- 
ous." Also,  in  the  history  of  the  arts  the  law  of  diversity 
is  recognized  and  pointed  out  by  these  writers.  But  per- 
haps the  most  striking  illustration  of  the  principle  involved 
is  furnished  by  what  Grove  and  Spencer  call  the  '(Corre- 
lation of  Physical  Forces."  It  is  now  believed  that  heat, 
electricity,  chemical  force,  and  every  other  kind  of  force, 


SPIRITUAL   CORRELATION.  291 

have  reciprocal  affection  and  dependence,  and  that  any- 
one of  them  may  be  convertible  into  any  of  the  others. 
Thus,  for  instance,  heat  produces  electricity  under  certain 
conditions,  and  electricity  produces  heat,  and  either  of 
them  or  both  may  be  the  cause  of  motion.  These  ele- 
ments or  energies,  therefore,  are  but  forms  of  some  one 
supreme  force, —  differentiations,  modifications,  and  trans- 
mutations of  some  ultimate  subtle  energy.  That  —  what- 
ever it  is  —  tends  to  diversity  of  manifestation  and  of 
operation,  and  thus  falls  in  with  what  appears  to  be  the 
method  of  universal  progress.  For  it  is  to  be  observed 
that  these  changes  from  the  simple  to  the  complex,  from 
the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous,  result  in  greater 
definiteness  and  distinctness  of  structure  and  of  organism, 
and  in  greater  perfectness  of  form  and  function.  Every- 
where the  law  of  diversity  is  seen  to  be  elaborating  a  more 
complete  and  glorious  order  of  things;  as  Mr.  Spencer 
says,  "is  the  deepest  knowable  cause  of  those  modifica- 
tions which  constitute  physiological  development,  as  it  is 
the  deepest  knowable  cause  of  all  other  evolutions,"  and 
is  not,  therefore,  to  be  lightly  esteemed,  deprecated  or 
deplored. 

Is  there  not  something  analogous  to  this  in  the  domain 
of  the  spiritual  ?  I  believe  that  there  is.  As  I  read  the 
New  Testament  I  find  that  there  is  a  sense  in  which  all 
Christians  are  really  one.  Superficially  and  outwardly 
they  may  be  separated,  but  essentially  and  spiritually  they 
are  united.  This  is  our  Savior's  doctrine.  He  represents 
His  disciples  as  partaking  of  the  same  life,  as  being  mem- 
bers of  the  same  kingdom,  and  as  engaged  in  the  same 
work.  In  the  parables  of  the  vine  and  the  mustard  seed 
they  are  set  forth  as  being  vitalized  and  sustained  by  the 
same  life-current,  and  as  bearing  fruit  from  the  same 
source.  They  are  one  flock,  having  one  shepherd;  and 
they  are  one   family,  having  one   Father.      If   our  Lord 


292  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

prayed  for  their  unification,  we  are  not  to  conclude  that 
He  meant  to  teach  that  they  are  naturally  and  necessarily 
separated  from  each  other  like  the  sands  of  the  sea;  but 
that  its  degree  might  be  intensified  until  they  should  come 
to  share  with  each  other  and  with  Christ  in  that  mysteri- 
ous fellowship  which  blends  His  personality  with  that  of 
the  Father.  As  there  is  growth  in  grace,  so  is  there 
growth  in  union;  and  as  the  first  is  only  possible  when 
grace  already  exists,  so  the  second  is  only  attainable  when 
the  disciples  are  bound  together  in  Christ  by  deep,  spirit- 
ual ties.  And  just  in  proportion  as  it  approaches  the  ideal 
will  it  be  manifest  to  the  world;  not  by  some  dull  uni- 
formity, but  by  the  fuller  revelation  of  that  which  is  its 
cause.  All  concede  that  its  source  is  Christ;  it  is  a  union 
in  Christ;  and  as  it  draws  nearer  to  perfection  the  Christ- 
life  will  be  more  apparent.  His  spirit,  His  purity,  the 
beauties  of  His  character,  will  become  more  conspicuous 
in  His  followers,  and  will  draw  to  them  the  attention  and 
approval  of  the  world.  Without  referring  to  the  apostles 
for  the  confirmation  of  this  viewT,  we  may  conclude  that  it 
is  worthy  our  support,  and  should  be  recognized  as  funda- 
mental to  a  just  conception  of  Christian  union.  Whatever 
differences  of  doctrine  or  practice  may  seem  to  wall  de- 
nominations from  each  other,  they  are  fellow-disciples, 
brethren  and  sisters  in  the  Lord,  resting  in  a  common 
Savior,  rejoicing  in  a  common  hope.  They  may  have  fallen 
into  errors  of  faith,  they  may  have  drifted  into  errors  of 
government,  they  may  have  adopted  singular  ceremonials, 
and  even  more  singular  customs,  but  if  they  breathe  the 
spirit  of  Christ  in  their  words  and  deeds  they  are  equally 
His,  and  equally  members  of  His  body.  This  is  being 
realized  to-day,  perhaps  more  distinctly  than  in  the  past, 
and  hence,  though  the  number  of  sects  may  not  have  dimin- 
ish ed,  sectarianism  has  perceptibly  declined. 

This  unity  in  the  Savior  does  not  prevent   diversity, 


THE    PRIMITIVE    CHURCH.  293 

and  the  diversity  is  not  destructive  of  the  unity.  This 
seems  to  be  clearly  taught  in  the  sacred  writings.  Such 
figures  as  the  vine  and  mustard-tree,  which  are  employed 
to  illustrate  it,  imply  variety;  for  we  know  that  no  two 
leaves  are  perfectly  alike.  Marked  differences  separate 
the  apostles,  not  only  in  character  but  in  their  way  of 
looking  at  the  truth.  While  their  teachings  are  essen- 
tially the  same,  they  are  distinguishable  by  a  Jewish  or 
a  philosophical  cast  of  thought.  In  the  twelfth  chap- 
ter of  second  Corinthians  we  have  presented  an  elabo- 
rate account  of  the  diversities  that  were  found  in  the 
primitive  church.  Gifts,  administrations  or  governments, 
operations  and  methods,  were  not  alike.  They  were  dis- 
similar. Some  members  had  the  word  of  wisdom,  others 
the  word  of  knowledge,  others  divers  kinds  of  tongues, 
and  others  yet  the  interpretation  of  tongues.  But  over 
all  and  through  them  all  wrought  the  self-same  Spirit. 
Now,  admitting  that  many  of  these  particular  distinctions 
were  peculiar  to  the  apostolic  age,  and  conceding  that  in 
Revelation  we  have  an  outline  of  everything  to  be  be- 
lieved or  done  to  secure  even  the  most  complete  outward 
agreement  among  disciples,  are  we  not  taught  by  this 
chapter  that  diversities  are  not  destructive  of  essential 
unity;  that  their  continuance  in  some  form  is  always  not 
only  possible  but  probable,  and  that  as  they  were  in  the 
Corinthian  church  overruled  for  good,  so  in  all  after-times 
they  would  be  made  subservient  to  the  well-being  of 
Christ's  kingdom  ?  This,  at  least,  is  the  inference  I  draw 
from  the  chapter. 

As  the  genius  and  other  mental  and  spiritual  qualities 
of  the  apostles  colored  their  presentation  of  truth,  it  is  not 
unnatural  to  suppose  that  similar  qualities  would  influence 
those  who  interpret  it,  in  subsequent  periods.  And  as 
disciples  were  gifted  by  the  Spirit,  doubtless  in  harmony 
with  their  natural  endowments,  to  fulfill  certain  offices  and 


294  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

ministries,  and  as  there  was  evidently  a  disposition  to 
magnify  their  special  work  at  the  expense  of  that  which 
was  beino*  wrought  by  their  brethren,  how  reasonable  to 
expect  that  in  the  future  similar  preferences  would  be 
shown,  and  that  out  of  them  denominations  would  even 
develop.  This  is  just  what  has  taken  place.  Different 
interpretations,  various  views  of  doctrine  or  of  church 
government,  combined  with  predilections  for  this  or  that 
mode  of  doing  Christian  work,  have  resulted  in  the  forma- 
tion of  religious  bodies.  As  the  vital  principle  in  nature 
takes  to  itself  varied  but  appropriate  forms,  and  as  the 
primary  force  asserts  itself  as  magnetism,  heat  or  electri- 
city, so  the  spirit  of  grace,  which  permeates  the  entire 
company  of  the  saved,  being  modified  by  their  personality, 
reveals  itself  in  various  creeds  and  various  organizations. 
Unity  is  no  more  sacrificed  in  the  one  case  than  in  the 
other;  and  more  than  this,  as  we  have  seen  that  diversity 
in  the  physical  ministers  to  the  highest  good  of  the  uni- 
verse, to  its  progress  as  well  as  to  its  stability,  we  are 
warranted  in  believing  that  diversity  in  the  spiritual  pro- 
motes its  development,  its  advancement  and  its  triumph. 

We  generally  assume,  when  the  subject  is  under  con- 
sideration, that  Christianity  would  have  accomplished  more 
for  the  world  than  it  has  if  it  had  remained  a  stranger  to 
disruptions  and  discords.  This  is  the  prevailing  opinion. 
It  is  repeated  without  any  sort  of  misgiving  on  all  occa- 
sions where  the  limited  triumphs  of  the  Cross  form  the 
theme  of  conversation  or  discussion.  But  it  is  very  ques- 
tionable whether,  in  the  sense  usually  intended,  the  posi- 
tion is  sound  and  trustworthy.  Of  course  there  must  be 
some  explanation  of  the  failure  to  fulfill  the  fair  promise 
which  the  new  religion  gave  at  the  beginning  of  its  his- 
tory, and  for  want  of  a  better  it  is  not  unnatural  that  it 
should  besought  in  the  rise  and  perpetuity  of  variances 
and  factions.     Undoubtedly  little  can  ever  be  effected  in 


VALUE    OF    DIVERSITY.  295 

the  spirit  of  sectarianism,  or  alienation;  and  so  far  as  the 
inner  and  vital  union  between  God's  people  has  come  short 
of  the  beautiful  ideal,  every  agency  for  good  has  been 
weakened  and  impeded.  This  may  be  conceded,  and  yet 
what  we  mean  by  denominationalism  not  be  responsible 
for  the  comparatively  unsuccessful  endeavors  of  the  church. 
Whether  she  would  have  succeeded  better  had  uniformity 
distinguished  her  is,  in  my  judgment,  open  to  debate;  and 
whether  she  would  have  exerted  a  greater  power  if  mo- 
notony had  been  the  rule  is  not  altogether  clear  and  cer- 
tain. I  think  as  much  can  be  said  on  one  side  as  the 
other,  and  at  least  enough  to  occasion  hesitancy  in  sub- 
scribing unreservedly  to  the  common  view.  A  Moslem 
proverb  has  it,  "  The  leaves  of  God's  book  are  the  religious 
persuasions";  and  I  am  not  convinced  that  the  variety  of 
readings,  practically  as  unimportant  as  the  multiplied  dif- 
ferences between  the  several  versions  of  the  Scriptures, 
have  proved  in  the  least  detrimental  to  the  establishment 
and  progress  of  Christianity.  Standing  by  the  Falls  of 
Niagara,  the  spectator  must  be  impressed  with  the  fact 
that  the  rapid  sweep  and  concentrated  solidity  of  the 
waters  do  not  prevent  them  from  breaking  into  eddies  and 
currents  and  separate  streams.  Rolling  impetuously  on- 
ward they  are  divided  by  rocky  beds  rising  in  their  course, 
by  inequalities  in  the  channel,  and  by  huge  boulders  that 
seem  to  have  been  placed  in  their  path  to  torment  them 
and  to  excite  their  wrath.  And  yet  these  impediments, 
around  which  they  swirl  and  at  which  they  growl  with 
foamy  lips,  only  intensify  their  strength  and  add  momen- 
tum to  their  fury,  so  that  when  they  leap  restrainless  from 
the  giddy  height  they  carry  everything  before  them,  and 
slowly,  but  surely,  grind  the  rocks  on  which  they  beat  to 
powder.  Eugene  Thayer  tells  us  that  in  listening  to  the 
mighty  voice  of  these  floods  he  detected  in 'its  awful  roar 
the  various  tones  of  a  great  organ  and  the  sweet  harmony 


296  ISMS   OLD    AND   NEW. 

of  mysterious  sounds.  Souls  in  whom  the  richness  of 
melody  dwells  not  may  never  recognize  in  the  beat  of  the 
waters  anything  like  music,  only  crash  and  discord  and  the 
reverberations  of  stridulous  monotone,  but  music  dwells 
there  nevertheless.  And  music  dwells  in  Christianity. 
Beneath  the  chatter,  clatter  and  prattle,  and  lying  deep 
below  the  noisy  loquaciousness  of  wrangling  sects,  the 
psalmody  of  redeeming  love  may  be  heard  by  those  who 
have  "ears  to  hear,"  and  the  different  parts  of  the  song 
of  grace,  in  divinest  unison  blending,  making  glad  the  city 
of  our  God  on  earth,  as  it  shall  at  last  make  glad  the  new- 
Jerusalem  in  heaven.  As  it  moves  forward  with  outward 
clash  and  discord,  but  with  inner  harmonies,  like  Niagara, 
our  religion,  divided  into  many  streams  and  by  dissensions 
rent,  has  still  been  one,  and  has  seemed  to  gather  power 
and  velocity  from  its  schisms,  so  that  it  has  swept  before 
it  hoary  superstitions  and  given  the  assurance  that  every 
form  of  evil  on  which  it  falls  shall  at  last  be  ground  to 
powder. 

Denominational  distinctions  have  not  been  without  ad- 
vantages to  the  cause  of  truth.  This  has  been  noted  by 
the  poet  Schiller.  In  one  of  his  letters  he  says:  "All  tor- 
tuous deviations  of  the  wanderino-  reason  at  length  strike 
into  the  straight  road  of  everlasting  truth;  all  diverging 
arms  and  currents  ultimately  meet  in  the  main  stream." 
Experience  has  abundantly  verified  this  position.  Theo- 
logical dissent  necessitates  and  facilitates  investigation;  it 
sets  independent  seekers  to  work,  and  insures  an  increase 
of  light  on  the  question  in  dispute.  The  advocate  on 
either  side,  zealous  in  behalf  of  his  view,  abundant  in  la- 
bors  to  demonstrate  its  correctness,  and  unsparing  in  his 
criticism  of  opposing  views,  prepares  the  way  for  an  en- 
lightened judgment,  By  this  process  error  is  eliminated, 
and  truth  is  not  only  discovered,  but  is  vindicated  as  well. 
This  result  has  been  brought  about  by  denominational  an- 


DIVERSITY   IN   CHURCHES.  297 

tagonisms.  Watching  each  other,  jealous  of  each  other, 
anxious  to  justify  their  own  existence,  they  have  un- 
weariedly  labored  and  brought  together  such  a  mass  of  in- 
formation that  it  is  now  comparatively  easy  to  decide  what 
was  really  taught  by  Christ  and  His  apostles.  Mutually 
they  have  contributed  to  make  clear  the  real  doctrines 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  in  so  doing  their  divergences  have 
proven  eminently  advantageous.  And  it  is  to  be  further 
observed  that  they  have  actually  tended  to  bring  the  war- 
ring churches  closer  together,  as  it  were,  in  spite  of  them- 
selves. The  search  has  shown  that  they  are  not  as  wide 
apart  as  they  supposed,  that  they  are  more  in  harmony 
than  they  suspected,  and  that  what  they  had  once  re- 
garded as  fatally  erroneous  is,  after  all,  not  irreconcilable 
with  truth.  They  have  also  demonstrated  that  God's 
Word  has  nothing  to  fear  from  investigation;  that  the 
path  of  safety  lies  in  the  utmost  freedom  of  thought  and 
of  inquiry;  and  that,  while  at  times  this  liberty  may  lead 
to  mistakes,  it  must  at  last  end  in  some  fresh  and  some 
more  definite  conception  of  the  teachings  of  Revelation. 

Diversity  has  also  ministered  to  Christian  efficiency. 
Were  the  members  of  a  single  church  alike,  how  narrowed 
would  its  sphere  of  usefulness  become.  If  they  were  all 
gifted  with  executive  abilities,  and  were  destitute  of  devo- 
tional qualities,  how  little  they  would  accomplish  apart 
from  governing.  If  they  were  enriched  in  knowledge, 
but  poor  in  sympathy  and  charity,  how  pedantic  and  un- 
interesting they  would  be.  If  zeal  was  not  checked  by 
wisdom,  and  activity  by  meditation,  into  what  extremes 
they  -would  run.  In  every  church  there  is  needed  faith, 
the  gifts  of  healing,  of  prophecy,  and  of  tongues.  Not 
one  alone,  but  all.  "If  the  whole  body  were  an  eye, 
where  were  the  hearing  ?  If  the  whole  were  hearing, 
where  were  the  smelling?"  And  if  the  whole  were  talk- 
ing,—  as  is  frequently  the  case, —  where  were  the  doing  ? 


298  ISMS   OLD    AND   FEW". 

The  fact  that  we  meet  with  these  diversities  is  one  cause 
of  the  success  which  attends  the  labors  of  Christ's  people. 
The  aggressiveness  of  one  rebukes  the  sluggishness  of 
others;  enthusiasm  startles  apathy,  earnestness  rouses  in- 
difference; while,  on  the  other  hand,  conservatism  restrains 
radicalism,  gentleness  tempers  impetuosity,  and  common 
sense  curbs  the  impatience  of  fiery  zeal.  And  in  a  similar 
way  the  various  denominations  act  and  react  upon  each 
other.  Their  existence  is  the  occasion  for  generous  rival- 
ries and  noble  emulations.  If  one  is  more  enterprising 
than  the  rest,  its  example  cannot  be  lost;  if  it  is  more 
liberal  and  spiritual,  others  will  feel  the  power  of  its  influ- 
ence. I  confess,  unless  Christian  human  nature  were  to 
undergo  a  radical  change,  I  should  look  with  g-rave  solici- 
tude on  the  dawning  of  undenominationalism.  Were  we 
all  one  body  we  should  lose  the  tremendous  stimulation 
that  comes  from  the  present  arrangement,  and  I  fear  that 
our  uniformity  would  become  the  uniformity  of  death  and 
the  tomb.  Let  us  not  then  decry  or  undervalue  the  good 
that  accrues  to  the  cause  of  Christ  from  what  many  con- 
sider an  unmitigated  evil. 

Nor  should  we  hide  from  ourselves  the  fact  that  these 
diversities  seem  to  facilitate  the  work  of  the  churches 
in  drawing  men  to  the  Savior.  There  are  marked 
varieties  on  the  outside  that  demand  those  on  the  inside. 
Many  persons  can  be  influenced  by  Methodism  who 
would  never  be  reached  by  Presbyterianism,  and  there 
are  some  who  will  cheerfully  attend  to  preaching  from 
an  undenominational  pulpit  who  would  refuse  to  hear 
the  message  from  a  denominational  one.  A  supremely 
intellectual  ministry,  a  ministry  of  light,  proves  effective 
in  some  cases,  while  in  others  a  spiritually  magnetic  or 
electrical  ministry  is  alone  successful,  and  yet  in  others  a 
correlation  of  these  forces  is  indispensable.  They  all  have 
their  value,  and  the  world  as  at  present  constituted  would 


THE   LOVING   MONK.  299 

be  infinitely  poorer,  and  immeasurably  more  helpless,  for 
the  destruction  of  any  one  of  them. 

From  these  thoughts  you  will  infer  that  I  do  not  attach 
much  importance  to  uniformity.  Certainly  I  am  not  dis- 
posed to  idolize  it.  I  am  not  clear  that  it  is  at  all  desira- 
ble, and  I  am  sure  that  it  would  not  be  at  the  cost  of 
mental  liberty.  As  I  view  the  case,  the  last  thing  to  be 
attempted  is  an  artificial  and  constrained  union  of  church- 
es. Instead  of  talking  a  great  deal  about  it,  and  pro- 
posing impossible  schemes  for  its  realization,  we  had  bet- 
ter simply  study  to  be  right  in  faith  and  practice,  and 
leave  to  God  and  to  His  providence  the  ultimate  solution 
of  the  problem.  He  knows  what  is  best  for  His  people 
and  the  world,  and  He  will  doubtless,  in  His  own  way  and 
time,  bring  about  whatever  of  structural  union  is  neces- 
sary for  the  final  triumph  of  His  kingdom.  In  the  mean- 
while let  the  heart  be  kept  clear  of  bitterness  and  discord, 
and  let  the  hand  place  no  stumbling-block  in  a  brother's 
way  because  his  creed  in  some  of  its  articles  is  different. 
Let  good  feeling  and  true  fellowship  be  cultivated,  and  we 
shall  then  not  be  unprepared  and  unfitted  to  cooperate 
with  God,  who  is,  I  am  persuaded,  working  out  by  these 
diversities  a  grander  and  sublimer  union  in  the  spiritual 
than  He  has  already  effected,  and  by  similar  processes,  in 
the  physical. 

Somewhere  I  have  read  of  two  monks  who  had  never 
quarreled  or  disagreed,  but  had  lived  for  years  in  sweetest 
amity  and  peace.  At  last  one  suggested  that  they  should 
have  a  falling  out  after  the  pattern  of  the  world.  But  the 
other  replied  that  he  knew  not  how  to  quarrel,  and  that 
he  did  not  understand  how  to  perform  his  part.  "Well," 
said  the  first  monk,  "we  will  put  this  brick  between  us, 
and  you  shall  say,  'It  is  mine,'  and  I  will  say,  'It  is  mine,' 
and  so  we  will  gradually  grow  heated  contending."  With 
smiling    faces   the    simple-hearted    brethren    prepared    to 


300  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

enter  the  arena  of  debate.  "It  is  mine," said  the  first, 
sternly;  " It  is  mine,"  said  the  second,  falteringly;  "Yea, 
again  I  declare  it  is  mine,"  responded  the  first,  solemnly; 
"Thai  take  it"  lovingly  answered  the  second.  Brethren, 
I  do  not  say  that  this  spirit  is  always  possible;  but  some- 
thing kindred  to  it  is  what  God  expects.  It  is  not  for 
Christian  denominations  to  wrangle  and  contend,  each 
madly  alive  to  its  own  little  interests,  and  careless  of  the 
interests  of  the  others.  "Mine  and  thine"  should  lose 
their  significance  with  them,  and  they  should  be  ready 
with  loving  accord  to  yield  to  each  other,  and  to  bear  each 
other's  burdens.  We  shall  never  recognize  what  is  grand 
and  good  in  our  neighbors,  and  we  shall  be  blind  to  their 
claims  on  our  fellowship,  if  we  fail  to  cultivate  this  spirit 
of  gentle  amity.  Ruskin  shows  very  eloquently  the  sad 
effects  of  anarchy  and  competition  in  a  piece  of  common 
mud.  The  elements  which  compose  it  "are  at  helpless 
war  with  each  other,  and  destroy  reciprocally  each  other's 
nature  and  power;  competing  and  fighting  for  place  at 
every  tread  of  your  foot;  sand  squeezing  out  clay,  and  clay 
squeezing  out  water,  and  soot  meddling  everywhere,  and 
defiling  the  whole."  Such,  also,  is  the  dreary  outcome  of 
sectarian  jealousies,  rivalries  and  contentions.  They  pre- 
sent the  members  of  the  warring,  fermenting  sects  in  the 
most  unlovely  of  lights;  they  are  offensive  to  each  other, 
and  their  touch  is  regarded  as  somewhat  contaminating. 
Ruskin  proceeds  to  describe  the  glorious  results  that 
would  follow  if  his  piece  of  humble  mud  were  left  for  suf- 
ficient time  in  perfect  rest.  Beginning  with  the  clay  in 
the  compound,  he  traces  its  progress  to  the  consistency  of 
finest  porcelain,  and  then  upward  until  it  becomes  clear, 
white  and  hard,  and  gathering  to  its  heart  "the  loveliest 
rays  only,"  it  is  known  to  us  as  a  sapphire.  He  then  takes 
the  sand,  and  assuming  a  "similar  permission  of  quiet," 
he   shows  how  it  attains   "the   power  of    reflecting,   not 


GRACES   OF   THE   SPIRIT.  301 

merely  the  blue  rays,  but  the  blue,  green,  purple  and  red 
rays,  in  the  greatest  beauty  in  which  they  can  be  seen 
through  any  hard  material  whatsoever.  We  call  it  then 
an  opal."  Next  the  soot  is  taken  in  hand,  and  its  efforts 
to  become  a  diamond  vividly  depicted;  for  even  this 
worthless  element  can  "exchange  its  blackness  for  the 
power  of  reflecting  all  the  rays  of  the  sun  at  once." 
"Last  of  all,  the  water  purifies,  or  unites  itself;  contented 
enough  if  it  only  reach  the  form  of  a  dewdrop;  but  if  we 
insist  on  its  proceeding  to  a  more  perfect  consistence,  it 
crystallizes  into  the  shape  of  a  star."  And  in  like  man- 
ner, if  the  various  sects  will  only  fully  cease  from  criti- 
cism, sarcasm,  and  railings  at  each  other's  expense,  and 
will  strangle  their  dull-eyed  bigotry  and  smother  their 
stupid  self-esteem,  and  if  they  will  seek  peace  and  follow 
"brotherly  love,"  they  will  furnish  the  condition  needed 
for  each  to  develop  its  peculiar  "  fruit  of  the  Spirit,"  and 
its  individual  perfections.  Then  it  will  be  seen  that  there 
is  "faith"  in  the  Catholic,  to  remind  us  of  the  precious 
and  highly  painted  porcelain;  "gentleness"  in  the  Epis- 
copal, to  remind  us  of  the  rare  and  softly  gleaming  sap- 
phire; "knowledge"  in  Presbyterians,  and  "diligence"  in 
Methodists,  to  remind  us  of  the  beautiful  and  many-hued 
opal;  "charity"  in  the  Unitarian,  to  remind  us  of  the 
pure  and  lustrous  diamond;  and  "  longsuffering "  in  the 
Baptist,  to  remind  us  of  the  fresh  and  pearly  water,  sym- 
bol of  bitter  but  wholesome  tears  of  sorrow,  which  hope 
transforms  into  the  never-fading  stars  of  "joy."  The 
Master  of  the  treasure-house  will  not  despise  any  of  these 
jewels,  but  will  find  a  place  for  each  one  in  His  radiant 
crown;  and  if  so,  we  should  remove  every  obstacle  from 
the  way  of  their  flashing  from  His  footstool;  and  the  more 
we  realize  their  worthiness  to  shine,  the  more  fully  will  we 
blend  our  rays  together,  and  when  this  consummation  shall 
be  reached,  then  will  the  greatest  obstacle  be  removed 


302  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

from  the  way  of  final  unification;  and  then,  though  diver- 
sities may  still  exist  in  doctrine  and  practice,  the  world 
will  no  longer  be  able  to  say  with  scornful  lips:  "  See  how 
these  Christians  love  each  other." 

It  would  be  well  for  the  unconverted,  before  they 
articulate  this  sneer,  to  consider  how  much  of  the  present 
diversity  is  permitted  in  condescension  to  their  own  weak- 
ness and  waywardness.  The  manifoldness  of  sin,  as  I  have 
already  intimated,  cries  out  for  manifoldness  in  religion, 
and  the  differences  that  reign  in  the  natural  most  likely 
can  only  be  met  by  differences  in  the  supernatural.  If 
God  allows  us  to  remain  Methodist,  Baptist  or  Episcopa- 
lian, it  may  be  on  your  account,  that  you  may  be  without 
excuse;  that  every  type  of  man  may  be  confronted  with  a 
corresponding  type  of  doctrine  and  of  methods  Instead 
of  these  varieties  lessening  your  responsibility,  they 
rather  heighten  it,  and  instead  of  extenuating  your  indif- 
ference, they  only  condemn  it.  Surely  somewhere  you 
can  find  a  faith  and  a  church  to  suit  you;  surely  there  are 
means  adapted  to  your  state,  and  ministries  fitted  to  your 
peculiar  temperament.  Think  of  this,  remember  this,  and 
instead  of  jeering  at  what  is  tolerated  for  your  good,  ear- 
nestly seek  those  aids  which  a  merciful  God  will  bless  to 
your  soul's  salvation. 

"  Thro'  all  life's  thousand-fold  entangled  maze, 
One  Godlike  bourne  your  gifted  sight  surveys, — 
Thro'  countless  means  one  solemn  end,  foreshown, 
The  labyrinth  closes  at  a  single  throne." 


MAMMONISM. 

"Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  mammon." — Matthew  m,  24. 

"Gold!  gold!  gold!  gold! 
Bright  and  yellow,  hard  and  cold, 
Molten,  graven,  hammered  and  rolled ; 
Heavy  to  get,  and  light  to  hold ; 
Hoarded,  bartered,  bought  and  sold ; 
Stolen,  borrowed,  squandered,  doled : 
Spurned  by  the  young,  but  hugged  by  the  old 
To  the  very  verge  of  the  church-yard  mold ; 
Price  of  many  a  crime  untold, — 
Gold!  gold!  gold!  gold!"  Hood. 

THERE  is  a  picture  by  Wertz  in  an  art  collection  at 
Brussels  which  must  profoundly  impress  the  thought- 
ful student  of  our  times.  It  represents  one  of  those  un- 
fortunate French  women  who  played  so  prominent  a  part 
in  the  tragedy  of  the  Paris  Commune,  with  her  back  to  a 
wall  and  her  hands  tied  before  her,  flashing  scorn  and 
contempt  from  eyes  glistening  beneath  thick  shadows  of 
raven  hair  partly  fallen  over  the  face,  and  a  squad  of  Ver- 
sailles soldiers,  who  are  mechanically  preparing  for  her 
summary  execution.  The  story  is  easily  understood,  and 
hardly  needs  an  interpreter.  Sympathizing  with  the  ene- 
mies of  Thiers'  new  republic,  the  poor  creature  has  been 
taken  in  the  act  of  firing  some  public  building,  or  in  fill- 
ing her  dead  husband's  place  at  the  barricades,  and  must 
meet  the  consequences  at  the  mouth  of  a  score  of  muskets. 
There  she  stands,  life-like,  on  the  canvas,  pale  but  defiant, 
and  there  the  uniformed  assassins  with  their  guns  leveled 
at  her  defenseless  breast.      So  painfully  realistic  is  the 


304  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

composition  that  the  beholder  expects  to  hear  the  sharp 
word  of  command  from  the  officer,  the  swift-answering 
report  of  the  death-dealing  weapons,  the  half-suppressed 
cry  of  the  wretched  prisoner,  and  to  see  the  flashing  fire, 
the  blinding  smoke,  and  then  the  unsightly  heap  of  bleed- 
ing clay.  Instinctively  he  holds  his  breath,  shuts  his  eyes, 
and  turns  away. 

But  he  cannot  exclude  from  his  mind  the  terrible  scene, 
or  escape  the  somber  reflections  to  which  it  gives  rise. 
These  will  continue  to  haunt  him  for  some  time,  and  may 
not  be  altogether  unprofitable.  Realizing  that  the  picture 
represents  a  passage  in  the  history  of  this  enlightened 
century,  he  will  most  likely  regard  it  as  illustrating  to 
some  degree  its  spirit.  Possibly  he  will  find  himself  pro- 
pounding curious  questions  and  arriving  at  very  unsatis- 
factory conclusions.  Here,  in  a  civilized  nation, —  perhaps 
the  most  highly  civilized  in  the  world, —  the  people  aban- 
don themselves  to  wholesale  butchering,  and  with  the 
torch  of  the  vandal  destroy  their  grandest  edifices  and 
slaughter  their  prisoners  and  hostages  like  beasts.  Refine- 
ment, education,  the  finer  feelings,  indeed  everything  that 
makes  them  Frenchmen,  are  powerless  to  restrain  their 
passions  when  excited  by  the  frenzy  of  revolution.  Natu- 
rally the  query  arises,  Were  these  men  and  women,  who  act 
like  human  devils,  ever  really  civilized  ?  Were  they  ever  in 
advance  of  the  furious  Huns  ?  and  wherein  do  they  really 
differ  from  their  savage  ancestry?  Outwardly,  in  dress, 
in  houses,  in  pursuits,  and  customs,  they  are  manifestly  far 
removed  from  their  uncouth  sires,  but  in  heart  the  dis- 
tance between  them  does  not  seem  very  marked.  Of  Alaric 
it  is  written  that,  when  he  sat  down  with  his  army  before 
the  gates  of  Rome,  he  promised  to  leave  its  citizens  their 
lives,  if  nothing  else.  M.  Thiers  was  not  as  humane  as 
Alaric;  he  made  no  promise,  or,  if  he  did,  he  certainly 
failed  to  keep  it.     In  what  particular,  then,  was  Thiers 


MODERN   CIVILIZATION.  305 

more  fully  civilized  than  Alaric?  The  Cimbrian  women 
acted  as  priestesses  in  a  barbarous  age,  and  delighted  to 
cut  the  throat  of  prisoners  taken  in  war,  draining  the 
blood  of  their  victims  into  brass  vessels  and  offering  it  to 
their  deities.  But  in  what  particular  were  these  women 
worse  than  their  Parisian  sisters  ?  Was  life  less  sacred  to 
the  one  class  than  to  the  other?  or  were  the  dignity  and 
gentleness  of  their  sex  properly  appreciated  and  exhibited 
by  either? 

Let  us  not,  however,  suppose  that  such  questions  are 
suggested  exclusively  by  the  atrocities  of  the  Commune 
and  its  antagonists,  for  in  every  nation,  and  equally  in  our 
own,  there  are  many  things  which  prompt  them.  Much  is 
being  written  and  said  in  praise  of  our  era.  Poets,  orators 
and  editors  never  grow  weary  extolling  its  achievements 
and  triumphs,  its  material  and  social  advancement,  and 
its  educational  and  philanthropical  enterprises.  Windy 
speeches,  double-leaded  editorials,  eagle-soaring  verses, 
set  forth  with  doubtful  modesty  the  superiority  of  this 
century  over  its  less  fortunate  predecessors.  There  never 
was  such  a  century  before, —  possibly  never  will  be  again, 
—  never  such  enlightenment  enjoyed,  such  liberty  at- 
tained, such  prosperity  realized,  and  such  elevation 
achieved.  And  yet,  without  controverting  these  extrava- 
gant representations  sharply,  there  are  uneasy  suspicions 
abroad  that  modern  progress  is  not  just  what  it  ought  to 
be.  While  we  travel  faster,  fly  higher,  plow  deeper,  see 
clearer,  grow  richer,  communicate  easier,  and  in  general 
thrive  more  than  our  forefathers,  nevertheless  there  is  a 
skeleton  in  our  social  structure  having  the  huge  propor- 
tions of  Leviathan.  Civilization  unquestionably  excels  in 
various  repects,  and,  perhaps,  as  a  whole,  every  former 
effort  in  the  same  direction,  and  yet  it  seems  far  from 
deserving  the  unqualified  encomiums  which  are  lavished 
on  it  so  unstintedly.  I  have  no  desire  to  detract  from  it, 
20 


306  ISMS  OLD   ASD   NEW. 

but  at  the  same  time  praise  should  not  outstrip  merit  or 
congratulations  overstep  the  boundary  of  justice.  Words- 
worth starts  a  very  serious  and  important  doubt  in  the  fol- 
lowing expressive  lines: 

"  Man  now  presides 
In  power  where  once  lie  trembled  in  his  weakness; 
Science  advances  with  gigantic  strides, 
But  are  we  aught  enriched  in  love  and  meekness? 
Aught  dost  thou  see,  bright  star !  of  pure  and  wise 
More  than  in  humbler  times  graced  human  story; 
That  makes  our  hearts  more  apt  to  sympathize 
With  heaven,  our  souls  more  fit  for  future  glory, 
When  earth  shall  vanish  from  our  closing  eyes, 
And  we  lie  down  in  our  last  dormitory? " 

That  is,  in  other  words,  are  we  as  highly  civilized  as  we 
think  we  are  ?  Has  morality  kept  pace  with  material  prog- 
ress ?  Has  the  elevation  of  humanity  been  proportionate 
to  the  development  of  physical  resources?  Has  the  race, 
under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  been  entirely 
purged  of  its  old  barbarities  and  savage  tendencies?  Are 
we  really  what  we  seem,  or  are  we  at  best  but  the  prophe- 
cy and  promise  of  what  we  ought  to  be  and  shall  be. 

I  am  afraid  these  questions  are  not  susceptible  to  the 
answer  our  vanity  would  dictate.  But  if  there  is  truth  in 
the  saying  of  Edmund  Burke,  that  "adulation  is  not  of 
more  service  to  people  than  to  kings,"  then  it  is  much 
wiser  to  look  at  the  facts  as  they  are,  however  humiliating, 
than  to  be  deceived  by  fancies.  These  facts  point  to  the 
mortifying  conclusion  that  the  history  of  the  Paris  Com- 
mune is  a  too  faithful  portraiture  of  the  age  in  which  we 
live;  an  outbreak  of  its  spirit,  a  revelation  of  its  inner- 
most heart.  As  we  meditate  on  its  terrible  record,  its  in- 
sane cruelty,  and  the  bloodshed  of  which  it  was  the  occa- 
sion, and  remember  the  pretensions  of  the  French  capital, 
we  cannot  avoid  the  apprehension  that  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances the  horrors  of  its  brief  career  might  be  repeat- 


REFINED    CANNIBALISM.  307 

ed  among  other  peoples,  if  they  are  not  being  enacted  in 
ways  not  less  striking  and  appalling,  though  not  one  whit 
less  shocking,  every  day  and  in  almost  every  city. 

That  this  is  the  case, —  that  to  an  alarming  extent  op- 
pression overrides  justice,  and  wrong  overreaches  right, 
that  our  wonderful  civilization  is  yet  cursed  by  the  cruel 
and  degraded  spirit  of  ancient  savagery, —  a  brief  induc- 
tion of  facts  I  think  will  fully  establish. 

It  seems  to  be  proven  by  what  remains  among  us  of 
the  man-eating  propensities  which  have  disgraced  many 
tribes  and  nations.  Cannibalism  does  not  flourish,  of 
course,  in  its  old  form,  but  it  would  be  premature  to  affirm 
that  the  sanguinary  Mexican  has  no  successor,  and  the 
ferocious  Fijian  no  imitator.  Some  wild  races  have  de- 
voured their  enemies,  that  they  might  in  this  way  appro- 
priate to  themselves  the  special  qualities  for  which  they 
were  distinguished.  Thus,  for  example, —  according  to 
Herbert  Spencer,  whose  Synthetic  Philosophy  has  fur- 
nished me  much  lively  information  regarding  the  habi- 
tudes of  primitive  races, —  the  Dakota  used  to  eat  the 
heart  of  a  fallen  antagonist  to  increase  his  own  courage, 
and  a  New  Zealander  would  swallow  the  eyes  of  a  slain  foe 
that  he  might  see  the  farther.  These  interesting  practices 
are  not  altogether  unknown  to  this  civilized  age  of  ours. 
Not  as  grossly,  it  is  true,  but  quite  as  really,  men  prey 
upon  each  other,  and  strive  to  make  good  their  deficien- 
cies at  each  other's  expense.  When  a  cunning  manipulator 
of  stocks,  by  "ways  that  are  dark  and  tricks  that  are  not 
vain,"  appropriates  to  himself  the  money  of  his  less  wily 
and  astute  fellow-citizens,  he  is  assuredly  following  in  the 
footsteps  of  the  Dakota  and  New  Zealander.  They  simply 
rob  their  victims  of  eyes  and  heart,  but  the  conscienceless 
speculator  plunders  even  his  friends,  for  his  own  advan- 
tage, of  that  which  is  sight  to  their  age  and  as  strength 
to  their  helplessness.     Moreover,  large   classes  of  work- 


308  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

people  suffer  a  silent  martyrdom,  and  are  annually  sacri- 
ficed by  the  thousands  to  sustain  useless  pomp  and  idle 
extravagance. 

"  Beneath  the  sun 

The  many  still  must  lahor  for  the  one: 

'Tis  nature's  doom." 

So  says  the  poet;  but  I  am  inclined  to  the  opinion  that 
man  has  more  to  do  with  this  arrangement  than  nature. 
Not  satisfied  with  his  own  share  of  this  world  and  a  trifle 
over,  he  clutches  at  the  share  of  others.  Availing  himself 
of  the  necessities  which  poverty,  disease  and  failures  have 
created,  he  burdens  his  dependents  with  excessive  toil, 
prates  pathetically  about  political  economy,  and  piously  of 
"nature,"  too,  and  continues  to  underpay  them.  Steadily 
they  sink  into  more  abject  pauperism,  until  they  shiver  in 
the  ghost  of  a  garment  and  for  shelter  are  forced  to  herd 
together,  where  decency,  much  less  dignity,  is  hardly  pos- 
sible. Are  not  such  unhappy  creatures  devoured  by  our 
civilized  cannibals? 

Take  as  an  illustration  of  the  wrongs  of  labor  some 
facts  gleaned  from  an  intelligent  article  in  The  Examiner 
and  Chronicle,  published  in  New  York,  concerning  the 
working  girls  of  that  city.  Doubtless  they  can  be  dupli- 
cated in  every  other  great  center  of  population.  These  girls 
are  represented  as  earning  the  "munificent  sum  of  thirty- 
five  cents"  for  making  the  best  and  heaviest  of  overcoats  ; 
twenty-eight  cents  for  handsome  spring  overcoats;  six  to 
ten  cents  a  pair  for  pants;  seventy-five  cents  a  dozen  for 
calico  wrappers,  and  about  a  dollar  and  a  half  for  complete 
suits  for  ladies.  "  Cash  girls  get  from  seventy-five  cents  to 
a  dollar  and  a  half  per  week.  '  Must  come  neatly  dressed ' 
is  in  the  advertisement  of  'cash  girls  wanted.'  "  Then,  in 
addition. to  such  meager  wages,  it  seems  they  are  outra- 
geously cheated.  "They  have  to  contribute  to  presents  for 
the  foreman  and  bookkeepers."    "A  little  girl  in  a  tobacco 


WRONGS   OF   WORKING   WOMEN.  309 

factory  who  earns  a  dollar  and  a  half  per  week  had  fifty- 
cents  deducted  to  buy  the  'boss'  a  present."  "The  men 
were  invited  to  give;  the  girls  were  openly  robbed."  Well 
does  the  writer  ask,  "  When  a  girl  earns  three  dollars  and 
a  half  in  six  days,  and  pays  three  dollars  for  board  and 
lodging,  thirty  cents  of  it  for  car  fares,  does  her  own 
washing  at  night,  seldom  irons  at  all,  how  long  before  she 
must  be  looking  for  clothing?  Where  can  she  find  it?" 
Is  it  not  true  that  their  employers  feed  upon  their  skill 
and  strength,  grow  fat  and  haughty  on  their  suffering  toil, 
and  merry  on  their  misery,  yea,  and  vampire-like,  greedily 
suck  their  life's  blood  to  renew  their  own  vigor,  and  to 
minister  to  their  own  social  importance?  And  possibly 
when  their  elastic  conscience  occasionally  bids  them  pause, 
some  gentle  poet  sings  in  their  ear  the  deceitful  strain 
"  'Tis  nature's  doom."  Deceitful  I  call  it,  because  nature 
has  never  ordained  that  a  few  men  should  grow  immeasur- 
ably rich  at  the  expense  of  suffering  millions;  or  that  the 
least  among  them  should  be  deprived  of  all  that  makes  life 
desirable  for  the  benefit  of  the  already  affluent.  She  is  too 
kind  a  mother  to  countenance  such  unjust  discrimination. 
The  decree  attributed  to  her  is  a  fiction,  a  forgery,  not  a 
verity.  She  ordains  equality,  not  inequality;  judgment, 
not  oppression;  righteousness,  not  a  cry. 

Wild,  lawless  races  are  generally  reported  indifferent 
to  the  value  of  human  life.  With  the  Bhils  assassination 
is  a  pastime;  with  the  Fans  cruelty  is  a  delight;  while  the 
Bushmen  are  brutal  in  their  ferocity,  and  the  Fijians  ma- 
lignant in  their  revenge.  Among  some  tribes  the  least 
breach  of  savage  etiquette  is  visited  with  instant  death, 
and  among  others  the  aged  and  sick  are  helped  out  of  the 
world  by  appropriate  tortures.  This  indifference,  however, 
is  not  confined  to  the  swamp  and  the  jungle;  it  manifests 
itself  in  other  quarters,  in  the  centers  of  culture  and  re- 
finement.    Witness  the  great  armies  of  Europe,  the  im- 


310  ISMS  OLD  AND  NEW. 

mense  fighting-machines  organized  to  destroy  those  to 
whom  they  bear  no  enmity,  with  whom  they  have  no  quar- 
rel, and  in  whose  "violent  taking  off"  they  have  not  the 
least  personal  interest.  Or,  witness  the  daily  chronicle  of 
murders  committed  by  drunken  ruffians  in  saloons,  or  by 
idle  scoundrels  on  the  highway  or  by  the  fireside.  Mur- 
ders by  disreputable  loungers  in  defense  of  an  imaginary 
quality  called  "honor,"  generally  not  worth  the  powder 
exploded  on  its  behalf;  wife-murders,  child-murders,  mur- 
ders for  money,  murders  for  revenge,  murders  for  licen- 
tiousness, and  murders  in  sheer  recklessness,  make  up  the 
frightful  catalogue  which  blackens  the  pages  of  our  news- 
papers, and  on  which  we  every  morning  breakfast  "full  of 
horrors."  And  yet  so  little  is  life  prized  among  us  that 
the  reeking  stews  and  drinking  dens  which  are  responsible 
for  most  of  these  barbarities  are  not  only  tolerated,  but 
are  allowed  with  impunity  to  violate  the  law.  Aye,  and 
so  lightly  does  the  community  seem  to  regard  their  crimes 
against  life  that  their  shambles  are  not  even  closed  on  the 
Sabbath;  and  so  highly  are  the  efforts  of  boozy  ruffians 
to  diminish  population  esteemed  that  they  are  actually 
made  the  fountain  of  political  honor  and  preferment.  The 
rum-shop  governs  the  primary  meetings,  and  the  primaries 
the  elections,  so  that  the  still  of  moral  death  becomes  the 
spring  of  political  life  to  our  successful  parties. 

Not  satisfied  with  destroying  the  body,  our  civilization 
is  ingeniously  contrived  to  slaughter  the  moral  qualities  of 
manhood,  such  as  honesty,  industry,  frugality,  and  faith- 
fulness. Material  interests  are  more  highly  prized  than  the 
spiritual.  Supremacy  in  commerce,  political  sovereignty, 
and  social  aggrandizement,  are  the  idols  of  the  hour,  and 
to  their  welfare  everything  else  is  subordinated.  The  in- 
nocence of  childhood,  the  gentle  graces  of  maidenhood, 
the  sterner  virtues  of  manhood,  are  all  counted  of  second- 
ary importance,  and   are   deliberately  imperiled   or  sacri- 


INFERIOR   MANHOOD.  311 

ficed  at  the  shrine  of  what  we  are  pleased  to  term  "  mod- 
ern progress."  Consequently  "wealth  accumulates,  but 
men  decay."  Carlyle  sums  up  the  situation  when,  con- 
cerning the  children  of  toil,  he  writes:  "It  is  to  live  miser- 
able, we  know  not  why;  to  work  sore  and  yet  gain  noth- 
ing; to  be  heartworn,  weary,  yet  isolated,  unrelated,  girt  in 
with  a  cold,  universal  laizzez-faire;  it  is  to  die  slowly  all  our 
life  long,  imprisoned  in  a  deaf,  dead,  infinite  injustice,  as 
ill  the  accursed  belly  of  Phalaris'  bull !  This  is,  and  re- 
mains forever,  intolerable  to  all  men  whom  God  has  made." 
If  this  is  a  fair  description,  we  can  readily  understand  how 
such  a  state  of  things  must  undermine  the  moral  life.  To 
be  deprived  of  hope,  to  subsist  from  hand  to  mouth,  to  be 
sunless,  restless,  joyless,  is  in  the  large  majority  of  cases 
to  be  careless  of  manhood  and  callous  to  its  loss.  Much 
is  being  said  of  over-population.  Europe  ships  as  many 
thousands  as  possible  to  these  hospitable  shores,  and  even 
here  at  times  we  feel  uncomfortably  crowded.  "There 
must  be  something  wrong1,"  writes  Carlyle;  "a  full-formed 
man  is  not  only  worth  nothing  to  the  world,  but  the  world 
could  afford  him  a  round  sum  would  he  simply  engage  to 
go  and  hang  himself."  There  is  indeed  something  wrong. 
It  means  that  civilization  has  so  blundered  during  the  past 
fifty  years  in  organizing  its  industries  and  in  developing 
its  material  resources  that  it  has  cursed  the  earth  with  an 
inferior  manhood,  which  now  cannot  care  for  itself,  and 
which  cannot  be  gotten  rid  of  at  pleasure. 

Savages  are  not  tenderly  solicitous  for  the  welfare  of 
their  offspring.  Their  children  are  pretty  much  left  to 
grow  up  as  they  please.  According  to  facts  collated  from 
various  sources  by  Herbert  Spencer,  the  Fuegians,  though 
manifesting  some  paternal  fondness,  sell  their  little  ones 
to  the  Patagonians  for  slaves;  and  New  Guinea  people 
cheerfully  barter  theirs  for  articles  of  merchandise.  While 
all  this   confessedly  is  very   inhuman,  and  has   no   exact 


312  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

parallel  in  decent  communities,  it  is  questionable  whether 
something  similar  is  not  discernible  in  the  neglect,  and 
worse  than  neglect,  in  which  multiplied  children  of  civili- 
zation are  reared.  Many  of  them  are  not  only  deprived 
of  home  influence,  but  the  community  being  indifferent 
to  their  future,  they  grow  up  on  the  streets  uninstructed 
in  right  and  wrong,  immoral,  vicious,  precocious  in  sin  and 
ready  for  evil.  Every  man's  hand  seems  to  be  against 
them.  The  Romans  once  gathered  the  children  of  the 
Goths  into  cities  and  there  massacred  them;  and  society, 
by  its  cruel  neglect  of  "children,  whose  parents  may  be 
stigmatized  as  modern  Goths,  is  justly  chargeable  with 
the  extinction  of  their  moral  life.  What  a  revelation 
on  this  subject  is  furnished  by  the  recent  reports  of 
Bridewell  and  of  the  Cook  County  Sunday  School  Con- 
vention. According  to  the  latter,  85,G94  children  in  Chi- 
cago, out  of  a  population,  between  the  ages  of  6  and  21,  of 
135,694,  do  not  attend  any  place  of  religious  instruction, 
and  in  one  district  of  about  20,000  people  not  10  per  cent 
attend  church  or  Sunday-school;  and  according  to  the 
former,  during  the  last  twelve  months  6,755  persons  were 
committed,  of  whom  1,454  were  21  years  old  and  under, 
including  children  of  7  years,  8  years,  9  and  10  years  of 
age.  Picture  to  yourselves  these  infants  immured  with 
hardened  criminals  in  close  cells, —  for  as  the  prison  ac- 
commodations were  not  adequate  they  had  to  be  crowded 
together;  —  j)icture  also  solemn  judges  committing  two 
seven-year-old  villains  to  the  safety  of  stone  Avails,  and 
then  picture  your  own  selves,  sitting  meekly  worshiping  in 
silks  and  satins,  and  then  ask  yourselves  the  profoundly 
interesting  question,  How  much  better  are  we  than  the 
Fuegians?  They  sell  their  children  to  the  Patagonians; 
we  sell  those  of  our  worthless  neighbor  to  the  devil.  Be- 
fore God,  of  the  two,  of  the  civilized  and  uncivilized,  are 
they  or  we  the  least  culpable?     Better  answer  the  ques- 


MASTERS.  313 

tion  at  once,  for  if  we  do  not  we  shall  not  be  prompt  to 
mend  our  ways,  and  if  we  do  not  mend  our  ways  in  this 
and  in  other  matters  to  which  attention  has  already  been 
directed,  we  shall  speedily  be  confronted  by  social  con- 
vulsions and  earthquakes,  whose  violence  will  cover  our 
foolish  boasting  with  contempt  and  scorn. 

The  more  I  reflect  on  the  present  state  of  society  the 
more  fully  am  I  convinced  that  the  evils  of  which  T  have 
complained  are  to  be  traced  to  that  particular  sin  which  is 
condemned  by  Jesus  in  the  text — "Ye  cannot  serve  God 
and  mammon." 

In  warning  the  people  against  evils  into  which  they 
were  liable  to  fall  he  admonishes  them  not  to  lay  up  treas- 
ures on  earth,  but  in  heaven,  as  their  heart  would  cer- 
tainly be  with  their  treasures,  and  they  ought  to  desire 
that  to  be  in  the  holiest  and  safest  place.  This  naturally 
leads  him  to  the  question  of  divided  allegiance.  Can 
a  man  have  two  masters?  Can  two  beings  or  things 
be  equally  supreme  in  the  affections  and  the  life?  If 
we  are  devoted  to  Republicanism,  can  we  be  equally  de- 
voted to  Royalty,  and  if  we  are  zealously  attached 
to  the  Protestant  idea,  can  we  at  the  same  time  be 
enthusiastically  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  Catholic?  Evi- 
dently not;  for  if  our  allegiance  is  divided  between  two, 
neither  one  nor  the  other  is  really  lord,  and  the  sov- 
ereignty of  one  always  and  necessarily  implies  the  sub- 
ordination of  the  other.  There  can  be  but  one  master. 
Various  interests  may  claim  and  probably  should  receive 
attention,  but  they  must  inevitably  pay  tribute  to  the 
ruling  ideal.  "Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  Mammon." 
Either,  but  not  both.  If  the  Almighty  is  chosen  to  be 
your  king,  then  your  aims  and  endeavors  must  be  regu- 
lated in  harmony  with  His  supreme  will,  and  your  rela- 
tions to  money  and  business  must  be  determined  by  His 
law.     He  does  not  condemn,  but  rather  encourages  fru- 


314  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

gality  and  the  spirit  of  accumulation,  and  He  has  never 
declared  Himself  an  enemy  to  affluence.  What  He  pro- 
tests against,  what  the  Savior  in  our  text  seems  to  de- 
nounce, is  the  possibility  of  Mammon  usurping  in  the  soul 
the  throne  of  God.  Such  a  contingency  the  Scriptures 
in  the  strongest  terms  deplore.  When  the  inspired  writer 
exclaims:  "If  I  have  made  gold  my  hope,  or  have  said  to 
the  fine  gold  'Thou  art  my  confidence;'  if  I  rejoiced  be- 
cause my  wealth  was  great,  and  because  mine  hand  had 
gotten  much. —  this  were  an  iniquity  to  be  punished  by 
the  judge,  for  I  should  have  denied  the  God  that  is 
above;"  and  when  the  apostle  warns:  "Be  not  deceived, 
for  neither  fornicators,  nor  idolators,  nor  thieves,  nor  cov- 
etous, nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  extortioners,  shall 
inherit  the  kingdom  of  God;"  and  adds:  "No  covetous 
man  who  is  an  idolator  hath  any  inheritance  in  the  king- 
dom of  Christ,"  we  perceive  not  only  the  reality,  but  also 
the  imminency  of  the  peril;  and  when  we  read  such  pas- 
sages as  "  the  wicked  hath  swallowed  down  riches,  but  he 
shall  vomit  them  up  again;  God  shall  cast  them  out  of  his 
belly;  though  he  heap  up  silver  as  the  dust,  and  prepare 
raiment  as  the  clay,  he  may  prepare  it,  but  the  just  shall 
put  it  on,  and  the  innocent  shall  divide  the  silver:"  "They 
that  trust  in  their  wealth  and  boast  themselves  in  the  mul- 
titude of  their  riches  cannot,  by  any  means,  redeem  his 
brother,  or  give  to  God  a  ransom  for  him;"  "Their  silver 
and  their  gold  shall  not  be  able  to  deliver  them  in  the  day 
of  the  wrath  of  the  Lord,  they  shall  not  satisfy  their  souls, 
because  they  are  the  stumbling-block  of  their  iniquity," 
we  discern  the  corrupting  and  debasing  influence  of  Mam- 
monism,  and  the  reasons  why  its  reign  should  be  detested 
and  denounced. 

Thomas  Carlyle  thinks  that  modern  society  has  gone 
ov.r  as  never  in  the  past  to  the  service  of  this  "The 
meanest  and  least  erect  of  spirits  that  fell  from  heaven." 


THE   MON^EY   MAHIA.  315 

In  the  Latter-Day  Pamphlets  he  says:  "The  Universe  is 
a  huge,  dull  Cattle-stall  and  St.  Catherine's  Wharf;  with  a 
few  pleasant  apartments  up-stairs  for  those  that  can  make 
money.  Make  money  and  don't  bother  about  the  uni- 
verse !  That  is  M.  Crowdy's  notion;  reckoned  a  quiet, 
innocent  and  rather  wholesome  notion  just  now;  yet 
clearly  fitter  for  a  reflective  pig  than  for  a  man."  To 
which  he  adds  that  "  Property  is  our  god  at  present," 
and  lawyers  "  our  pontiffs,  the  highest  priests  we  have." 
Unfortunately  this  representation  is  not  without  color  of 
truth,  and  yet  the  shadows  are  altogether  too  deep  and 
dark.  Unquestionably  we  find  the  money  plague  every- 
where, and  tainting  everything.  Society,  literature,  mor- 
ality, and  religion  have  not  escaped;  and  it  is  more  than 
suspected  that  justice,  patriotism,  virtue,  genius  and 
piety  are  bought  and  sold  in  the  market-place;  and  that 
were  some  modern  Jugurtha  to  view  the  general  venality 
he  would  cry  out  as  that  ancient  Numidian  did  against 
Rome:  "Rome  itself  is  to  sell,  if  anybody  wants  to  buy 
it."  But  while  it  is  true  that  the  lust  of  gold  distorts 
and  deforms  our  civilization,  it  is  hardly  fair  to  speak  of 
it  as  exceptionally  Mammonized.  I  know  of  hardly  an 
age  in  which  the  thirst  for  gain  has  not  been  intense  and 
has  not  displayed  itself,  if  not  in  mercantile  pursuits,  at 
least  in  militant  aggressiveness.  For  the  sake  of  gain 
barbarians  have  plundered  monarchies  and  dismembered 
kingdoms,  heartless  soldiers  have  ravaged  empires  and 
blotted  out  nationalities,  wild  adventurers  have  braved 
unknown  seas  and  explored  savage  continents;  for  the 
sake  of  gain  the  sanctities  of  the  Jewish  temple  were  in- 
vaded by  the  Babylonians,  and  the  territory  of  the  Greeks 
by  the  Persians;  for  the  sake  of  gain  Alexander  rioted  in 
blood  and  his  successors  in  murderous  deeds,  the  Romans 
in  butchery,  and  the  Goths,  Vandals,  and  Arabs  in  cruel 
slaughter;    for  the  sake  of   gain,  after  the   self-denying 


316  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

labors  of  Columbus,  the  new  world  was  visited  with  inhu- 
manity and  atrocities,  and  its  unoffending  inhabitants 
reduced  to  slavery  or  foully  slain;  and,  for  the  sake  of 
gain,  ecclesiastics  employed  sacrilegious  means,  frauds, 
and  abuses,  their  mercenary  conduct  reaching  its  climax 
in  the  sale  of  indulgences,  and  their  degradation  its  com- 
pletion in  the  farcical  procession  of  relics,  whose  charms 
were  at  least  sufficient  to  magnetize  the  money  of  the 
people  into  the  coffers  of  the  priests.  No  age  can 
claim  a  monopoly  of  sordid  meanness.  Covetousness, 
greediness,  avariciousness,  rapaciousness,  and  mercena- 
riness  display  themselves  continuously  in  the  chron- 
icles of  history.  Only  a  diseased  mind  will  invest  the 
warriors,  chieftains,  kings,  and  rulers  of  antiquity  with 
heroic  virtues,  and  insist  on  imputing  exclusively  to  mod- 
ern representatives  of  power  the  vices  of  cupidity  and 
parsimoniousness.  The  old  leaders  and  sovereigns  of  the 
people  were  just  as  base  as  any  in  the  new  era,  the  only 
difference  being  that  they  were  more  openly  and  ruggedly 
freebooters  than  their  successors,  and  took  with  the 
strong,  mail-clad  hand  what  is  now  filched  in  a  gentler, 
kid-gloved  fashion.  Unaccountably  blind  is  he  who  fails 
to  recognize  these  facts,  and  who  likewise  overlooks  the 
bountiful  hospitality,  the  generous  philanthropy,  the  free- 
hearted, open-handed  munificence,  that  fosters  educational 
and  religious  institutions  of  our  times,  which  exalt  the 
present  age  beyond  its  predecessors,  and  which  vindicate 
it  from  the  charge  of  exceptional,  preeminent,  and  unmiti- 
gated Mammonism,  brought  against  it  by  such  writers  as 
the  cynical  sage  of  Chelsea  and  the  over-critical  Ruskin. 

Nevertheless,  while  I  utter  this  word  of  extenuation  I 
realize  that  the  vice  complained  of  is  sufficiently  vigorous 
and  widespread  to  occasion  painful  solicitude,  and  that  it 
cannot  but  be  advantageous  for  thoughtful  souls  to  med- 
itate on  its  Cimmerian  darkness  and  abysmal  depths. 


IS   POVERTY   A    CRIME?  317 

Mammonism  perverts  the  judgment.  When  it  obtains 
mastery  it  beclouds  the  intellect,  suggests  strange  distinc- 
tions, and  leads  to  the  most  absurd  conclusions.  This  is 
especially  discernible  in  its  estimate  of  the  relative  virtue 
of  affluence  and  poverty.  While  it  is  tolerant  of  evils  and 
coquettes  with  notorious  iniquities,  it  is  particularly  severe 
on  indigence,  and,  indeed,  regards  it  as  a  deeply-dyed  sin, 
a  sin  that  is  mortal  and  unpardonable.  For  this  it  has 
no  charity  and  no  commiseration.  Rarely  is  this  opinion 
expressed  in  words,  but  it  asserts  itself  in  what  speaks 
louder, —  actions.  The  deference  and  respect  shown  by 
the  rich  to  successful  men,  even  when  they  are  more  than 
suspected  of  business  irregularities,  is  an  indication  of  the 
confusion  of  moral  judgments  which  devotion  to  money 
breeds.  Such  questionable  characters  are  feasted,  con- 
sulted on  grave  occasions,  and  are  invariably  treated  with 
a  consideration  far  beyond  their  merits.  If  a  poor  man 
had  not  more  sense  and  more  personal  worth  he  would  not 
be  tolerated  even  in  a  servile  employment,  and  as  for  his 
views,  they  would  not  receive  a  moment's  attention.  What 
is  it  that  makes  the  difference  between  them?  Not  knowl- 
edge necessarily,  for  the  affluent  may  be  as  stupidly  igno- 
rant as  the  indigent;  nor  virtue,  for  as  we  have  intimated, 
one  may  be  as  vicious  as  the  other.  Evidently  it  is  money. 
To  the  eye  of  Mammom  bonds,  stocks,  acres,  possessions 
of  every  kind,  are  inseparable  from  the  individual  who 
owns  them,  are  part  of  himself,  are  incorporated  with  his 
personality,  and  when  his  worthiness  is  to  be  weighed 
ought  to  be  placed  alongside  of  him  in  the  scale.  But 
when  honest  poverty  comes  to  be  valued,  lacking  these 
things  it  lacks  everything;  and  it  is  censured,  criticised, 
condemned,  in  such  tones  and  in  such  a  manner  as  to  leave 
the  impression  that  it  is  more  of  a  crime  than  a  misfor- 
tune. Carlyle,  referring  to  American  society,  speaks  of 
our  "anomalous  dukes,"  "overgrown  monsters  of  wealth," 


318  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

"  who  have  made  money  by  dealing  in  cotton,  dealing  in 
bacon,  jobbing  scrip,  revered  by  surrounding  flunkies,  in- 
vested with  real  powers  of  sovereignty,  and  placidly  ad- 
mitted by  all  men,  as  if  nature  and  heaven  had  so  ap- 
pointed it,  to  be  in  a  sense  godlike,  to  be  royal  and  fit 
to  shine  in  the  firmament,  though  their  real  worth  is  — 
what?"  His  cynical  language  is  as  applicable  to  England 
as  to  America;  and,  unhappily,  in  both  countries  it  is  true 
that  the  coarsest  piece  of  human  crockery,  "not  worth  five 
shillings  of  anybody's  money,"  if  stuifed,  like  the  earthen 
idol  of  Somnauth,  with  "  half  a  wagon  load  of  gold  coins," 
is  looked  upon  by  Mammon  as  a  veritable  deity  entitled  to 
the  tremulous  homage  of  mankind. 

That  money  sheds  a  kind  of  saintly  aureole  around  the 
head  of  its  possessor,  in  the  judgment  of  those  who  have 
gained  it  in  abundance,  or  who  are  seeking  it  unweariedly, 
may  be  inferred  from  the  pleas  that  are  invented  to  ex- 
tenuate his  wrong-doings  and  the  praises  that  are  lavished 
on  his  good  deeds.  If  a  rich  man  is  a  faithless  husband, 
reckless  gambler,  or  a  confirmed  sot,  such  persons  are 
ready  to  apologize  that,  considering  his  surroundings  and 
temptations,  it  is  quite  remarkable  that  he  behaves  as  well 
as  he  does.  But  the  same  rule  is  scarcely  ever  applied  to 
the  poor.  The  wretched  beggar  who  abuses  his  wife,  or 
who  drowns  his  conscience  in  dram-drinking,  is  at  once  pro- 
nounced dangerous  and  worthless,  and,  if  possible,  is  shut 
up  in  some  penal  institution  or  reformatory.  Poor  people 
are  blamed  for  mingling  with  the  vicious,  when  no  other 
society  is  probably  open  to  them,  and  they  are  condemned 
for  vices  which  the  peculiarities  of  their  position  have 
generated.  Then,  rich  men  can  purchase  a  reputation  for 
piety  and  generousness  at  a  very  small  cost,  and,  however 
limited  may  be  its  extent,  generally  it  is  broad  enough  to 
cover  a  multitude  of  sins.  If  they  hire  pews,  which  they 
rarely  occupy,  they  are  model  disciples;  if  they  serve  on 


THE    RICH    AND   THE   POOR.  319 

the  board  of  a  Theological  Seminary  or  on  a  Hospital  com- 
mittee, they  are  exemplary  saints,  and  if  they  give  two  or 
three  per  cent  of  their  income,  duly  advertised,  they  are 
public  benefactors.  But  it  is  different  with  the  poor.  If 
they  do  not  attend  church,  even  where  they  are  made  to 
feel  that  they  are  not  wanted,  they  are  spoken  of  by  the 
clergyman,  in  the  saddest  of  tones,  as  the  unevangelized 
and  unreachable  masses.  Were  they  to  take  him  at  his 
word  and  come  to  the  sanctuary,  in  some  instances  he 
would  not  be  overjoyed  to  see  them,  and  unquestionably 
his  "beloved  flock"  would  be  shocked,  and  would  stay  at 
home.  If  they  stint  themselves  to  forward  the  interests 
of  Christ's  kingdom,  or  go  down  among  the  sick,  and  for 
the  love  of  souls  sacrifice  ease  and  comfort,  they  are  set 
down  as  fanatical  folk  or  as  not  altogether  sound  in  mind; 
and,  as  for  their  self-denying  gifts,  they  are  rarely  appre- 
ciated at  their  true  value,  and  cut  no  figure  in  newspaper 
reports.  Different  by  far  is  it  with  the  sordid  affluent  who 
give  of  their  "superflux,"  and  at  best  give  only  what  is  to 
them  a  bagatelle.  Their  donations  are  oftentimes  mere 
attempts  to  purchase  exemption  from  punishment  due 
their  iniquitous  course  in  amassing  wealth.  The  two  prov- 
erbs quoted  by  Timothy  Titcomb,  somewhat  similar  in 
character,  describe  them  accurately:  "They  steal  a  pig 
and  give  away  the  trotters  for  God's  sake";  and  "What 
the  abbot  of  Bamba  cannot  eat  he  gives  away  for  the 
good  of  his  soul."  This  aptly  pictures  those  who  are 
committed  to  the  worship  of  the  money-god,  and  the  pur- 
blind money-god  mumbles  an  unconditional  approval  of  a 
liberality  so  much  to  its  liking. 

Mammonism  corrupts  the  conscience.  This  is  a  serious 
evil;  for  God  gave  the  moral  sense  to  be  our  guide,  and 
if  that  is  debased  there  is  no  sufficient  barrier  anywhere 
against  the  triumph  of  evil.  Woe  to  the  nation  or  indi- 
vidual in  whom  this  monitor  is  debauched;  doomsday  is 


320  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

not  far  off.  The  great  Greek  historian  presents  as  a  sign 
of  the  degradation  of  his  own  times  that  men  spake  of 
vices  as  though  they  were  virtues,  altering,  as  he  says, 
"at  their  will  and  pleasure  the  customary  meaning  of 
words  in  reference  to  actions."  And  when  the  human 
heart  is  intent  on  acquisition,  when  the  highest  object  of 
life  is  money-getting,  it  is  almost  sure  to  do  the  same 
thing.  Where  the  strife  of  trade  is  fiercest,  and  where 
the  sordid  are  most  active,  maxims  and  precepts  are  cur- 
rent, which  have  doubtless  originated  with  Mammon-wor- 
shipers, and  which  can  hardly  be  traced  to  the  Decalogue. 
It  is  an  open  secret  that  such  worshipers  do  not  pretend 
to  conduct  business  on  the  principles  of  the  gospel,  but 
have  devised  for  themselves  a  gospel  of  self-interest  and 
overreaching.  To  create  a  panic  and  then  ride  on  its 
stormy  waves  to  affluence  is  called  "a  smart  operation," 
and  to  acquire  a  fortune  by  means  which  involve  the  ruin 
of  hundreds,  and  which  beforehand  were  known  to  be 
despicable  and  pregnant  with  untold  misery,  is  considered 
as  both  legitimate  and  commendable.  And  even  when 
companies  are  formed  by  speculators,  who  imagine,  and 
possibly  sincerely  believe,  that  their  projects  are  sure  to 
yield  enormous  profits,  but  who  have  not  taken  sufficient 
pains  to  ascertain  all  the  facts  in  the  case,  and  who  by 
their  highly-colored  representations  draw  to  their  coffers 
the  savings  of  the  industrious  and  helpless,  when  they 
explode  and  the  victims  wring  their  hands  with  sorrow, 
instead  of  being  denounced,  are  spoken  of  simply  as 
"somewhat  questionable  affairs."  To  take  contracts  for 
public  buildings  or  other  improvements  and  execute  them 
in  such  a  way  as  to  jeopardize  health,  property,  and  life, 
;iikI  to  slaughter  thousands  of  the  country's  defenders 
by  shoddy  supplies  and  grow  fat  on  the  spoils,  are  not 
looked  upon  as  praotices  which  should  entail  on  the 
offenders  the  indignation  of  the  plutocracy.     But  what  a 


TYRANNY    OF   MAMMON.  321 

moth-eaten,  fly-blown  and  gangrened  conscience  must  such 
conceptions  of  right  produce  ?  They  may  lead  to  mate- 
rial affluence,  but  they  foster  irreparable  moral  indigence. 

Similar  must  be  the  effect  of  the  petty  tricks  and  de- 
ceptions perpetrated  by  small  dealers  and  tradesmen  on 
their  unwary  customers.  While  many  among  them  are 
above  reproach,  not  a  few,  in  whom  the  instinct  of  gain 
drowns  every  other  feeling,  are  guilty  of  systematic  and 
continuous  meanness  to  avoid  giving  a  fair  equivalent  for 
the  money  they  receive.  As  the  ceaseless  dropping  of 
water  wears  away  the  solid  rock,  so  these  repeated  acts 
gradually  destroy  the  moral  life,  and  prepare  the  way  for 
greater  recklessness  in  the  pursuit  of  wealth.  Lured  by 
this  glittering  idol,  men  of  this  type  engage  in  the  nefa- 
rious rum  traffic,  in  gambling,  horse-race  betting,  lotteries, 
and  in  other  evils  by  which  the  hopes  and  happiness  of 
thousands  are  blighted.  They  have  determined  to  be 
rich;  they  are  indifferent  as  to  the  means.  No  matter 
what  laws  are  violated  or  hearts  broken,  what  wrongs  are 
committed  or  rights  ignored,  what  innocence  is  sacrificed 
or  guilt  incurred,  they  will  be  rich, —  honestly  if  they  can, 
dishonestly  if  they  must.  To  the  attainment  of  this  one 
object  they  have  devoted  everything, —  strength,  health, 
body,  soul.  At  this  altar  they  are  prepared  to  immolate 
all  that  they  are  and  have, —  even  to  their  conscience. 
That  they  bind,  strangle,  slay,  and  present  as  a  whole 
burnt  offering  to  appease  the  insatiableness  of  the  yellow, 
dusty,  dirty  deity  whose  golden  smile  they  covet. 

And  just  here  we  have  the  explanation  of  some  of  the 
evils  under  which  the  working  classes  groan.  Mammonism 
having  no  conscience,  no  truth,  it  regards  those  whom  it 
uses  for  its  own  advancement  as  having  no  soul.  Long 
hours,  short  pay  for  the  laborer,  short  hours  and  long  pay 
for  the  capitalist,  is  its  doctrine.  It  believes  in  the  divine 
and  exclusive  right  of  money.  Full  banks,  surplus  cash 
31 


322  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

and  driving  commerce  are  of  more  importance  in  its  estima- 
tion than  human  amelioration.  If  to  secure  these  ends  en- 
tire populations  must  be  oppressed,  starved  and  degraded, 
so  much  the  worse  for  the  populations,  but  they  must  never- 
theless submit  to  the  inevitable.  It  is  blind  and  deaf  to  the 
fact  that  no  eternal  law  devotes  nine-tenths  of  the  race  to 
drudgery;  that  no  divine  policy  of  economics  discrimi- 
nates against  labor,  and  that  no  heavenly  or  earthly  reason 
exists  why  it  should  be  so  wretchedly  rewarded  as  to  ren- 
der the  poor-house,  or  something  worse,  its  final  haven. 
And  it  stupidly  fails  to  perceive  that  the  science  of  world- 
ly interests,  as  now  understood,  is  a  monstrous  piece  of 
botching,  as  absurd  as  it  is  inhuman,  and  that  as  long  as 
it  is  relied  on  we  need  not  expect  to  see  any  radical 
abatement  of  evils  which  are  perpetuating  barbarism  and 
breeding  dissensions. 

But  Mammonism  also  debases  the  affections.  It  tears 
from  the  heart  the  image  of  wife,  children,  country,  home, 
and  even  God,  and  rears  instead  the  bejeweled  and  be- 
dizened image  of  itself.  The  faith,  trust  and  love  due 
humanity,  and  supremely  due  the  Almighty,  it  appropri- 
ates to  its  own  service,  and  demands  that  they  shall  lavish 
all  their  strength  and  beauty  on  its  repulsive  charms. 
What  is  home  or  country  to  the  man  who  is  intoxicated 
with  the  gold  poison  ?  He  will  neglect  the  one  and  sell 
the  other.  His  children  may  grow  up  uneducated  or  mis- 
educated  for  all  he  cares,  and  they  may  be  as  naked  in 
body  as  they  are  beggared  in  mind  for  all  he  thinks  or 
heeds.  He  loves  money  with  a  love  that  will  not  brook  a 
rival,  and  his  own  flesh  and  blood  is  but  as  dull  clay  in 
comparison  with  the  diamond  worth  and  brilliancy  of  his 
idol.  Hence  the  number  of  families  in  our  day  who  are 
totally  neglected  by  their  fathers,  and  permitted  to  grow 
up  as  they  please;  and  hence  the  increasing  recklessness, 
insubordination  and  lawlessness  among  the  young. 


SORDID    SAINTS.  323 

Perhaps  the  more  terrible  illustration  of  the  power  of 
this  vice  is  furnished  by  those  who  profess  to  be  the  chil- 
dren of  God,  to  love  Him  and  their  fellow  beings,  and  who 
are  continually  confronted  by  the  realities  of  eternity,  and 
yet  cling1  to  their  money  as  though  it  were  their  Savior,  or 
dole  it  out  as  though  it  were  the  life  drops  from  a  martyr's 
veins.  Though  a  world  lies  in  ruins,  though  humanity  is 
cursed  with  sin  and  sorrow,  and  though  they  are  being- 
whirled  with  the  velocity  of  earth's  diurnal  revolution 
toward  the  judgment  bar,  they  cling  to  that  which  if 
wisely  used  would  bring  salvation  to  all  mankind.  They 
stint  their  own  spiritual  nature,  begrudging  the  paltry 
dollars  which  decency  compels  them  to  offer  in  return  for 
the  bread  of  life,  and  seem  more  inclined  to  see  the  souls 
of  others  starve  than  part  with  their  hoarded  wealth.  They 
love  the  image  of  liberty  on  the  golden  coin  more  than  the 
image  of  God  in  the  human  heart.  Such  professors  are  like 
Mont  Blanc,  stately,  imposing  to  the  eye,  lustrous  outward- 
ly, but  frigid  at  heart,  holding  their  treasures  as  that  giant 
mountain  hoards  its  snows,  originating  no  rivers,  nourish- 
ing no  waste  places,  but  simply  filling  the  atmosphere  with 
inhospitable  cold.  It  seems  to  me  that  every  time  they 
think  of  themselves  they  must  be  overwhelmed  with  shame, 
and  that  "  were  it  not  for  the  interposition  of  sleep,"  which, 
as  it  has  been  said  by  a  quaint  preacher,  "separates  all 
men  once  in  twenty-four  hours  from  the  consciousness  of 
their  own  meanness,  they  would  die  of  self -contempt." 

Am  I  not  warranted,  then,  from  these  facts  in  charging 
upon  this  miserable  vice  the  savageness  that  fills  our  civil- 
ization with  sorrow  and  with  suffering  ?  From  this  source 
does  it  mainly  spring;  and  ought  we,  therefore,  to  be  sur- 
prised that  the  Savior  should  positively  assert  the  irrecon- 
cilableness  of  Mammonism  with  the  service  of  God? 
Surely  not.  Ruskin  has  said,  sharply  but  truly:  "The 
immediate  office  of  the  earthquake  and  pestilence  is  to 


324  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

slay  us  like  moths,  and,  as  moths,  we  shall  be  wise  to  live 
out  of  their  way.  So  the  practical  and  immediate  office  of 
gold  and  diamonds  is  the  multiplied  destruction  of  souls, 
in  whatever  sense  you  have  been  taught  to  understand 
that  phrase."  How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  A  passion  that 
perverts,  corrupts  and  debases,  that  blinds  the  mind, 
deadens  the  conscience  and  degrades  the  affections,  is 
necessarily  soul-destroying.  It  has  no  welcome  for  God, 
no  desire  for  His  blessing,  no  joy  in  His  service;  but 
gradually  paralyzes  the  religious  nature,  and  consumes  all 
spiritual  susceptibility.  Before  heaven  is  reached  this 
fever  has  burnt  up  everything  that  fits  for  heaven,  and 
before  hell  opens  wide  its  ponderous  gates  this  frenzy  has 
plunged  the  shriveled  spirit  into  the  depths  of  deepest 
fire. 

"  Oh,  cursed  lust  of  gold !  when  for  thy  sake 
The  fool  throws  up  his  interest  in  both  worlds 
First  starved  in  this,  then  damned  in  that  to  come." 

Mammon  may  be  a  good  and  useful  servant,  but  he  is 
a  foul  and  tyrannous  lord.  His  shackles  no  true  man 
should  consent  to  wear.  They  may  be  broken,  they  should 
be  despised.  When  Camillus  found  Sulpitious  trying  to 
rescue  Rome  from  the  barbarian  by  large  sums  of  money 
he  proudly  exclaimed:  "It  is  with  steel,  not  gold,  that 
Romans  guard  their  country."  And  it  is  with  the  sword 
of  the  Spirit,  and  not  with  paltry  pelf,  that  our  nation  is 
to  be  helped  and  delivered  from  savagery.  That  sword  in 
the  hands  of  Christ  can  free  the  people  from  the  disgrace- 
ful semi-barbarism  which  now  afflicts.  Take  the  Word  of 
God,  accept  its  teachings,  make  its  Divine  Author  "  Mas- 
ter," and  in  submitting  to  His  authority,  that  which  is 
now  your  lord  will  become  your  slave.  All  you  now  pos- 
sess in  this  world  you  may  continue  to  possess;  but  with 
Christ  in  your  heart  its  relation  to  you  will  be  changed.  It 
will  be  your  servant,  not  your  sovereign,  and  you  will  send 


MAMMON   CONQUERED.  325 

it  on  messages  of  peace  and  mercy  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth.  And  with  the  sense  of  emancipation  will  come  the 
feeling  of  proprietorship  in  more  than  silver  can  buy  or 
gold  secure.  However  poor  you  may  be  in  the  perishable 
riches,  you  will  realize  that  you  own  all  things.  Looking 
up  into  God's  face  you  will  be  able  to  say  "  My  Father"; 
the  universe  will  be  yours  in  the  highest  sense,  for  you 
will  have  attained  the  art  of  appropriating  its  inner  treas- 
ures. Christ  yours,  the  church  yours,  heaven  yours, — 
what  more  can  be  needed  to  complete  your  felicity  ?  Here 
have  we  true  riches;  blessed  is  he  who  finds  them! 

"  Leave  wealth  behind ;  bring  God  thy  heart-best  light 
To  guide  thy  wavering  steps  through  life's  dark  night; 
God  spurns  the  riches  of  a  thousand  coffers, 
And  says :  '  My  chosen  is  he,  his  heart  who  offers ; 
Nor  gold  nor  silver  seek  I,  but,  above 
All  gifts,  the  heart,  and  buy  it  with  my  love ; 
Yes,  one  sad,  contrite  heart,  which  men  despise, 
More  than  my  throne  and  fixed  decree  I  prize! '  " 


PAUPERISM. 


"  Ye  have  the  poor  with  you  always,  and  whensoever  ye  will  ye 
may  do  them  good."  Math,  xiv,  7. 

"All  the  care 
Ingenious  parsimony  takes,  but  just 
Saves  the  small  inventory,  bed  and  stool, 
Skillet  and  old  carved  chest,  from  public  sale. 
They  live,  and  live  without  extorted  alms 
From  grudging  hands,  but  other  boast  have  none 
To  soothe  their  honest  pride  that  scorns  to  beg." 

Cowper. 

I  AM  reminded  by  the  breath  of  autumn,  chill  prophet 
of  winter's  approaching  frost,  and  by  the  tattered 
forms  of  trees,  gaunt  harbingers  of  earth's  melancholy 
season,  of  those  sad  classes  against  whose  doors  the  snow 
forever  beats  and  drives,  and  through  whose  "  looped  and 
windowed  raggedness  "  the  biting  wind  too  freely  blows. 

"  Take  physic,  pomp ; 
Expose  thyself  to  feel  what  wretches  feel ; 
That  thou  may'st  shake  the  supertiux  to  them, 
And  show  the  heavens  more  just." 

Christianity  is  the  eldest  and  only  born  daughter  of 
that  venerable  religion  whose  care  for  the  poor  was  among 
the  chiefest  of  its  glories.  Whatever  may  be  said  to  the 
discredit  of  Judaism,  it  cannot  fairly  be  charged  that  the 
uii fortunate  were  neglected  in  its  ministrations.  It  was  a 
thoroughly  humane  system,  seeking  to  shield  the  weak 
from  the  strong,  and  to  protect  the  indigent  from  the 
rapacious  exactions  of  the  affluent.  Pinched  want  and 
heaped  plenty  were  never  known  during  its  sway,  as  they 

326 


GOD   AND   THE    POOR.  327 

have  been  since,  and  under  dispensations  reputed  to  sur- 
pass it  in  philanthropy.  Rarely  were  men  seen  in  Israel 
who  had  been  fleeced,  stripped,  and  beggared  by  the 
heartless  schemes  of  capitalists  and  monopolists;  and  only 
toward  the  close  of  its  history  was  such  a  contrast  pos- 
sible as  that  which  Jesus  painted  in  the  parable  of  Dives 
and  Lazarus.  Pauperism  and  mendicancy  were  not  among 
the  crying  evils  of  the  nation  in  its  palmy  days,  in  the 
days  when  its  people  were  free,  and  when  princes  of  the 
house  of  Judah  reigned.  In  those  halcyon  times,  from 
psalms  of  praise  and  from  sacred  statutes  continually  was 
heard  the  voice  of  God  befriending  the  friendless  and 
pleading  the  cause  of  the  necessitous.  "  Blessed  is  he 
that  considereth  the  poor;  the  Lord  will  deliver  him  in 
time  of  trouble;"  "The  needy  shall  not  always  be  forgot- 
ten, the  expectation  of  the  poor  shall  not  perish  forever," 
chanted  the  singers;  "Whoso  reproacheth  the  poor  re- 
proacheth  his  Maker,"  echoed  the  teachers.  "  When  thou 
goest  into  thy  neighbor's  vineyard,"  the  law  enacted, 
"  thou  mayest  eat  grapes  thy  fill,  but  thou  shalt  not  put 
any  in  thy  vessel;"  and  it  commanded  the  landowners  to 
leave  standing  the  corn  in  the  corners  of  the  field,  and  not 
to  turn  back  to  gather  in  the  gleanings.  These  were  for 
the  foodless  and  the  destitute.  The  law  likewise  forbade 
the  rich  to  impose  charges  on  the  poor  for  money  lent; 
and,  if  a  garment  had  been  pledged  for  security,  it  de- 
creed: "In  any  case  thou  shalt  deliver  him  the  pledge 
when  the  sun  goeth  down,  that  he  may  sleep  in  his  own 
raiment."  Such  provisions  as  these,  and  others  that  I 
care  not  to  recall,  prove  that  the  mother  of  Christianity 
looked  tenderly  on  poverty,  did  not  stigmatize  it  as  a 
crime,  but  regarded  it  as  a  misfortune  to  be  treated  with 
with  the  most  generous  compassion. 

But  what  of  the  daughter?     Has  she  inherited  these 
traditions  and  this  spirit?    That  it  was  the  Lord's  will  that 


328  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

she  should  do  so  is  evident  from  His  own  ministry.  It  is 
said  that  "the  common  people  heard  Him  gladly,"  and 
their  attention  to  His  words  may  have  been  largely  se- 
cured by  His  thoughtfulness  of  their  bodies.  Wherever 
He  went  He  healed  the  sick,  restored  the  lame,  opened  the 
eyes  of  the  blind,  fed  the  starving  multitude  with  miracu- 
lous bread,  and  in  these  various  ways  evinced  His  interest 
in  their  temporal  well-being.  Even  in  "preaching  the 
gospel  to  the  poor,"  which  He  adduced  in  support  of  His 
Messianic  claims,  He  sought  to  deliver  them  from  the  evils 
of  this  life  almost  as  much  as  to  prepare  them  for  the  life 
to  come.  He  was  not  only  the  Savior  of  the  lowly,  He 
was  their  Benefactor  as  well.  And  that  His  disciples  were 
to  share  with  Him  in  this  mission  of  philanthropy  is  inti- 
mated not  only  in  the  kindly  words  of  the  text,  and  in  the 
command,  "Freely  ye  have  received,  freely  give,"  but  by 
the  fact  that  one  of  His  little  company  carried  "the  bag," 
whose  scanty  contents  were  devoted  to  the  worthy  indi- 
gent. Thus  was  He  understood  by  the  primitive  church, 
and  hence  in  her  early  history,  to  meet  peculiar  or  press- 
ing exigencies,  all  possessions  were  held  in  common,  and 
to  secure  equality  of  distribution  a  special  office  was  insti- 
tuted. While  this  Christian  communism  speedily  passed 
away,  the  apostles  did  not  hesitate  to  enjoin  upon  the 
churches  the  most  liberal  charity.  Contributions  were 
called  for  in  aid  of  the  more  destitute  brethren,  and  were 
cheerfully  given  by  the  more  prosperous.  In  Paul's  second 
letter  to  the  Corinthians  considerable  attention  is  paid  to 
this  subject,  where  a  few  comprehensive  and  wide-reaching 
principles  are  laid  down  for  the  regulation  of  benevolence, 
and  in  other  portions  of  the  New  Testament  its  exercise 
is  made  the  test  of  true  discipleship.  There  it  is  written: 
"  Whoso  hath  this  world's  goods  and  seeth  his  brother  in 
need,  and  shutteth  up  his  bowels  of  compassion  from  him, 
how  dwelleth  the  love  of  God  in  him?"     And  even  when 


THE    CHURCH    AND   THE    POOR.  329 

the  object  of  compassion  is  not  a  brother  the  law  of  Christ 
reads:  "If  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him;  if  he  thirst, 
give  him  drink,  for  in  so  doing  thou  shalt  heap  coals  of 
fire  on  his  head."  In  this  manner  we  perceive  that  the 
new  religion  went  forth  charged  with  the  spirit  of  the  old, 
and  that  large-heartedness  and  open-handedness  were  to  be 
its  distinguishing  features  perpetually.  Whatever  changes 
might  overtake  it,  however  its  doctrinal  conceptions  might 
be  modified  or  its  ecclesiastical  government  be  altered,  its 
beneficence  was  to  be  abiding.  To  ignore  its  relations  to 
the  poor  or  to  neglect  its  duty  to  the  indigent  would  not 
only  falsify  its  character,  but  would  strip  it  of  its  most 
heavenly  and  convincing  credentials. 

This  was  recognized  very  distinctly  by  the  followers  of 
Christ  in  the  centuries  succeeding  the  first.  They  culti- 
vated feelings  of  benignity,  kindness,  sympathy  and  boun- 
teousness.  Everywhere  were  they  known  by  their  frater- 
nal interest  in  the  suffering  and  oppressed,  by  their  cordial 
recognition  of  the  manhood  of  the  slave,  and  by  their 
humane  provisions  for  the  sick  and  the  poor,  the  homeless 
and  houseless,  the  fatherless  children  and  husbandless 
wives.  Every  Sabbath  collections  were  taken  for  the  un- 
fortunate, and  even  seasons  of  sore  trial,  when  the  alms- 
giver  was  hardly  any  better  off  than  the  alms-receiver,  did 
not  hinder  the  discharge  of  this  sacred  duty.  Within  the 
church  all  worshipers  were  equal.  No  distinction  between 
the  slave  and  his  master,  between  the  high  and  the  low, 
was  allowed  in  the  solemn  services  of  the  sanctuary.  They 
met  on  the  same  level;  they  separated  on  the  same  plane. 
Beneath  the  humble  roof  of  the  house  consecrated  to  the 
glory  of  God,  or  within  the  dreary  catacombs,  where  the 
outcast  sect  fled  for  religious  consolation,  rank  and  afflu- 
ence, genius  and  learning,  received  as  brethren  the  ob- 
scure, the  ignorant  and  the  moneyless.  In  those  days  the 
church  was  a  refuge,  an  asylum,  a  retreat,  a  fortress  and 


330  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

defense.  There  the  victim  of  cruelty  was  comforted  and 
protected,  and  there  the  wayward  and  fallen  were  wel- 
comed to  penitence  and  hope.  The  altars  of  the  church 
covered  the  nakedness  of  the  orphan,  rejected  the  offer- 
ings  of  the  violent  and- vicious,  repelled  the  homage  of 
the  unjust  and  luxurious,  and  wreathed  a  blessing  in 
their  holy  incense  for  the  souls  of  all  who  emanci- 
pated the  bondsman,  delivered  the  captive,  and  defended 
the  friendless.  This  spirit  of  philanthropy,  which  led 
a  Christian  woman  to  found  the  first  public  hospital, 
which  constrained  Constantine  to  abolish  crucifixion,  and 
which  impelled  Justinian  to  encourage  manumission,  was 
cultivated  at  every  cost  and  at  every  hazard.  The  treas- 
ures of  the  church  and  the  lives  of  her  members  were 
devoted  to  its  service.  To  redeem  the  people  who  had 
become  prisoners  to  the  Goths,  Ambrose  sold  the  orna- 
ments of  the  altar  at  Milan;  and  Acacius,  to  free  seven 
thousand  Persian  captives,  satisfied  the  triumphant  Ro- 
mans with  the  precious  vessels  and  golden  plate  of  the 
Basilica.  To  these  ecclesiastical  worthies  a  man  was  worth 
more  than  a  miter,  a  soul  was  more  than  a  triple  crown, 
and  beneficent  acts  higher  signs  of  their  vocation  than 
pallium,  stole  and  scapulary.  During  the  ravages  of  pes- 
tilences, such  as  depopulated  Carthage,  Alexandria  and 
Edessa,  the  disciples  of  Christ  cared  for  the  sick  and 
dying  who  had  been  abandoned  by  their  heathen  relatives, 
and  during  the  devastations  of  war  such  as  desolated  the 
fair  fields  of  Italy  they  were  ever  the  mediators  and  the 
fearless  ambassadors  of  peace.  Ministers  of  mercy,  friends 
of  humanity,  they  made  the  impression  on  society  that 
religion  is  essentially  philanthropic,  that  it  had  come  to 
assuage  grief,  relieve  poverty  and  succor  helplessness.  To 
Ihis  .Julian,  the  emperor,  traced  the  prevalence  of  their 
sentiments,  and  to  this  maybe  attributed  the  rise  of  the 
myriad   charities  which  beautify  and   bless   both   Europe 


PREVALENCE  OF  POVERTY.  331 

and  America.  As  Lecky  says  of  Christianity,  and  says 
truly,  "It  has  covered  the  globe  with  countless  institutions 
of  mercy,  absolutely  unknown  to  the  whole  pagan  world. 
It  has  indissolubly  united  in  the  minds  of  men  the  idea  of 
supreme  goodness  with  that  of  active  and  constant  benev- 
olence. It  has  placed  in  every  parish  a  religious  minister, 
who,  whatever  may  be  his  other  functions,  has  at  least 
been  officially  charged  with  the  superintendence  of  an 
organization  of  charity,  and  who  finds  in  this  office  one 
of  the  most  important  as  well  as  one  of  the  most  legiti- 
mate sources  of  his  power."  A  sublime  fact,  which,  how- 
ever, in  our  day  unhappily  must  be  qualified,  as  the  aver- 
age minister  does  not  seem  to  be  particularly  devoted  to 
this  part  of  his  heavenly  mission. 

The  Earl  of  Beaconsfield,  no  mean  critic  of  his  period, 
seems  to  regard  it  as  very  questionable  whether  society  is 
any  happier  now,  and  the  masses  of  the  people  more  pros- 
perous and  freer  from  the  curse  of  poverty,  than  they  were 
in  the  olden  times  when  the  church  watched  over  them  and 
cared  for  them  in  this  spirit  of  beneficence.  There  are 
passages  in  his  romance  entitled  Sybil  which  appear  to 
intimate  that  the  poorer  classes  in  our  day  are  more 
wretched  and  helpless  than  in  the  past.  For  instance,  in 
one  place  he  says,  referring  to  the  monastic  age:  "There 
were  yeomen  then,  sir.  The  country  was  not  divided  into 
two  classes,  masters  and  slaves;  there  was  some  resting- 
place  between  luxury  and  misery.  Comfort  was  an  Eng- 
lish habit  then,  not  merely  an  English  word";  and  at  an- 
other point  in  the  story  he  adds:  "Christianity  teaches  us 
to  love  our  neighbor;  modern  society  acknowledges  no 
neighbor."  Still  more  unequivocally  he  writes  in  another 
connection:  "There  is  more  serfdom  in  England  now  than 
at  any  time  since  the  Conquest.  I  speak  of  what  passes 
under  my  daily  eyes  when  I  say  that  those  who  labor  can 
as  little  choose  or  change  their  masters  now  as  when  they 


332  ISMS    OLD    AND   NEW. 

were  born  thralls.  There  are  great  bodies  of  the  working- 
classes  of  this  country  nearer  the  condition  of  brutes  than 
they  have  been  at  any  time  since  the  Conquest.  Indeed, 
I  see  nothing  to  distinguish  them  from  brutes,  except  that 
their  morals  are  inferior."  However  harsh  and  censorious 
these  views  may  sound,  they  are  not  without  supporters. 
Not  a  few  candid  thinkers  sympathize  with  them,  es2Je- 
cially  in  the  Old  World. 

It  is  insisted  by  many  that  in  our  age  "the  rich  are 
growing  richer  and  the  j3oor  are  growing  poorer."  Mr. 
Thornton,  an  English  writer,  in  his  book  on  Over  Popula- 
tion, maintains  that  the  condition  of  the  working  classes 
to-day  is  worse  than  it  was  in  the  middle  ages.  He  con- 
demns, in  common  with  Mr.  Wright,  author  of  Our  New 
Masters,  "  the  ignorance  of  those  who  argue  in  the  face 
of  facts  that  the  English  peasantry  of  the  middle  ages 
were  less  comfortably  situated  than  their  living  descend- 
ants because  they  used  barley  instead  of  wheaten  flour, 
ate  off  wooden  platters,  never  knew  the  luxury  of  a  cotton 
shirt  or  of  a  cup  of  tea,  and  slept  on  straw  pallets  within 
walls  of  wattled  plaster,"  and  concludes  with  the  state- 
ment: "Although  ruder  means  were  employed  to  supply 
the  wants  of  nature,  every  want  was  abundantly  satisfied, 
which  is  far  indeed  from  being  the  case  at  the  present." 
These  gentlemen  show  that  Hallam  and  Froude  are  more 
than  inclined  to  this  view,  incidentally  confirming  it  in 
their  histories.  Hallam  distinctly  says:  "I  find  it  difficult 
to  resist  the  conclusion  that,  however  the  laborer  has  de- 
rived benefit  from  the  cheapness  of  manufactured  com- 
modities, and  from  many  inventions  of  common  utility, 
lie  is  much  inferior  in  ability  to  support  a  family  than 
were  his  ancestors  four  centuries  ago."  But  taking  for 
granted  that  these  writers  over-state  the  case,  there  is  still 
abundant  reason  for  looking  on  the  present  condition  of 
society  with  solicitude. 


EXTENT   OF   THE    EVIL.  333 

Vast  estates  are  accumulating  in  a  few  hands,  and  only 
the  extent  of  our  territory  averts  from  the  New  World 
many  of  the  land  difficulties  which  distract  the  Old.  Mo- 
nopolies and  gigantic  capital  lord  it  over  labor  and  hold 
millions  of  human  beings  in  a  condition  approaching  that  of 
serfdom.  Wages  are  precarious,  and  sometimes  depend  on 
voting  the  political  ticket  of  employers, —  so  farcical  is  our 
boasted  right  of  suffrage, —  and  they  are  pitiably  scant, 
considering  the  extravagant  prices  that  are  demanded  for 
the  common  necessaries  of  life.  In  England  the  number 
of  paupers  steadily  increases;  in  France,  also,  after  vigor- 
ous and  partially  successful  endeavors  to  reduce  it,  again 
it  is  multiplying.  In  Holland  and  Belgium,  formerly  com- 
paratively free  from  mendicity,  beggars  and  beggary  are 
becoming  more  general,  and  even  in  this  country,  although 
wonderfully  favored  and  prosperous,  these  evils  are  enlarg- 
ing and  are  rapidly  attaining  to  portentous  proportions. 
That  in  Europe  there  are  millions  of  peasants  who  have 
little  else  than  black  bread  to  eat,  and  that  there  are  thou- 
sands in  every  great  American  city  who  can  scarcely  find 
a  crust  to  blunt  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite,  and  that 
there  are  other  thousands  who,  strive  as  they  may,  can 
hardly  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door,  and  who,  to  drown 
the  sense  of  overhanging  doom,  snatch  a  fearful  joy  from 
restless  dissipation,  are  among  the  commonplaces  of  daily 
observation.  With  untold  multitudes  of  our  fellow-beings 
existence  is  a  tragedy  composed  of  accumulating  evils,  un- 
satisfied desire,  impatience  with  the  present  and  weariness 
of  the  past,  whose  brief  pauses  between  the  acts  are  un- 
cheered  by  the  excruciating  efforts  which  the  orchestra 
makes  toward  music,  otherwise  known  as  pleasure.  Not 
veiled  as  at  Egyptian  festivals  does  a  specter  sit  to  remind 
them  of  life's  hollowness,  but  at  every  scant  meal  does  it 
preside,  uncovered  in  the  light  of  day,  its  fleshless  lips  de- 
riding their  despair,  and  its  hard,  cold  fingers  paralyzing 


334  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

their  strength.  Nothing  brought  they  into  the  world,  and 
nothing  have  they  in  it.  Like  the  Phrygian  Tantalus, 
they  are  overwhelmed,  but  not  in  water,  and  they  starve 
with  the  rich  clusters  of  plenty  hanging  in  their  sight. 
Their  efforts  to  win  a  living  are  Sisyphean  in  their  fu- 
tility,—  the  stone  rolls  back  only  to  crush  them.  Every- 
where between  Jerusalem  and  Jericho  humanity  is  found 
mutilated  by  its  own  vices  or  plundered  by  its  enemies, 
naked,  famished,  bleeding,  and  the  good  Samaritan  at  his 
wit's  end  to  discover  a  remedy.  Now  it  is  a  laboring  man 
trying  to  support  a  family  on  a  miserable  pittance,  disheart- 
ened by  disease  and  the  precariousness  of  employment;  or  it 
is  a  widow  woman  with  helpless  children  and  failing  health; 
or  it  is  a  household  cursed  with  drunken  parents  and  mad- 
dened by  repeated  disappointments;  or  it  is  a  wretched 
girl  cheated  of  her  earnings  that  the  coffers  of  soulless 
affluence  may  be  filled,  and  driven  by  beggary  to  crime; 
or  it  is  the  untutored  and  fatherless  boy,  hungry,  weak, 
and  ragged,  pinched  with  cold  and  foul  with  dirt,  that  lifts 
up  the  imploring  voice:  "Have  compassion, —  have  com- 
passion on  me,  fine  ladies  and  gentlemen ! "  Multiply 
these  cases  by  the  hundreds,  and  then  add  to  them  thou- 
sands of  others,  burrowing  in  cellars  and  shivering  in  gar- 
rets, miseducated,  uneducated,  incompetent  people,  who 
have  been  sent  into  the  mad  conflict  of  life  like  soldiers 
uniformless  and  weaponless;  and  supplement  these  help- 
less crowds  with  the  victims  of  our  rapacious,  grinding, 
heartless  civilization,  among  whom  can  be  found  a  host 
who  have  been  maimed,  disabled,  and  mutilated  in  its  ser- 
vice, and  you  may  form  a  faint  idea  of  the  dimensions  of 
the  unfortunate  and  melancholy  army  that  staggers  on  its 
way  to  the  grave  under  the  tattered  banner  of  poverty. 

No  wonder  that  the  tender  heart  of  Philanthropy  is 
appalled  at  such  a  sight;  no  wonder  that  at  times  she  sits 
with  folded  hands  in  utter  hopelessness  of  ever  being  able 


VISIONS   OF   PLENTY.  335 

to  remove  the  evil,  and  no  wonder  if,  choking  with  sobs, 
her  gloom  rises  into  a  wail,  and  she  hoarsely  sings: 

"  These  things  confound  nie, 

They  settle  on  my  brain ; 
The  very  air  around  me 

Is  universal  pain. 
The  air  is  damp  with  weeping, 

Rarely  the  sun  shines  clear 
On  any  but  those  sleeping 

Upon  the  quiet  bier." 

And  yet  she  should  not  despair.  Poverty  is  neither 
indestructible  nor  inevitable.  We  have  fair  promises  from 
heaven  pointing  to  its  extinction,  and  we  have  sweet 
visions  seen  from  of  old  of  teeming  millions  rejoicing  in 
abundance,  and  crowned  with  prosperity.  Better  believe 
that  we  have  failed  to  discern  or  wisely  to  apply  the  means 
for  the  fulfillment  of  these  predictions  than  that  they  shall 
utterly  fail,  and  the  earth  be  perpetually  afflicted.  Un- 
doubtedly there  are  errors  and  mistakes  which  measurably 
account  for  the  present  deplorable  state  of  things,  which, 
if  they  could  only  be  distinctly  seen  and  remedied,  the  way 
would  be  prepared  for  better  times.  What  the  gravest  of 
these  are  I  desire  to  point  out,  not  to  discuss  them  in  full, 
and  if  I  am  successful  in  my  humble  endeavor  I  may  at  least 
do  something  toward  the  ultimate  solution  of  the  grave 
problem  that  now  burdens  the  thought  of  every  enlight- 
ened and  loving  soul.  And  I  address  these  reflections 
especially  to  the  church;  for,  as  we  have  seen,  God  com- 
mitted to  her  the  poor,  and  she  is  certainly  more  responsible 
than  any  other  organization  for  their  condition. 

In  my  judgment  the  continuance  of  poverty  and  the 
spread  of  Pauperism  are  largely  due  to  the  selfish  prin- 
ciple which  underlies  the  structure  of  modern  society,  and 
which  permeates  and  ramifies  through  all  its  departments. 
Self-interest  is  the  supreme  rule  everywhere.     Men  are  in 


336  ISMS   OLD  AND   NEW. 

haste  to  be  rich.  The  end  of  their  striving  is  wealth;  as 
money  in  our  age  is  the  representative  of  ease,  respect, 
homage,  and  even  of  political  preferment,  they  rush  madly 
toward  it,  careless  of  the  thousands  they  may  trample  be- 
neath their  feet  in  the  race.  Finance  is  the  god  of  the 
present,  and  there  seems  to  be  no  pity  in  the  heart  of  its 
worshipers.  The  influence  of  the  commercial  idea,  elevat- 
ing in  some  of  its  aspects,  and  beneficent,  has  been  de- 
moralizing and  disorganizing  in  others.  It  has  created 
the  impression  that  everything  has  its  price,  and  that  even 
faith,  honor,  patriotism,  justice,  chastity,  the  esteem  of 
men,  and  the  grace  of  God,  are  objects  of  trade  and  bar- 
ter. The  result  is  that  the  calculating  spirit  is  dominant, 
and  it  has  passed  into  an  axiom  that  the  employer  should 
give  as  little  as  possible  to  labor,  not  as  much  as  he  can 
reasonably  afford.  Over-reaching  has  quite  thrust  aside  as 
antiquated  and  impracticable  the  old  law  of  "  do  as  you 
would  be  done  by,"  and  it  is  generally  voted  inapplicable 
to  modern  times.  The  current  maxim  is,  Get  as  much  for 
as  little  as  possible;  and  the  Workman  naturally  adopts  it, 
and  renders  as  little  as  he  can  for  as  much  as  he  can  get. 
Consequently  there  is  at  bottom  no  good  feeling  between 
these  classes,  neither  confidence  nor  sympathy,  respect  nor 
love.  They  are  preying  on  each  other,  doing  their  best 
under  forms  of  law  to  plunder  each  other,  and  in  the 
tussle  the  laborer  generally  comes  out  second  best.  The 
struggle  for  existence  between  them  is  deadly  and  fierce, 
and  unfortunately  the  fittest  does  not  always  survive. 
From  the  unequal  contest  the  lowly  emerge  disheartened, 
and  frequently  disabled.  Fifty  cents  for  writing  all  day, 
fifty  cents  for  plying  a  sewing-machine  ten  hours,  fifty 
cents  for  bending  over  some  sickening  task,  fifty  cents  the 
total  earnings  of  a  woman  trying  to  guard  her  little  ones 
from  starvation,  and  but  little  more  to  be  earned  by  fam- 
ished  hundreds   in   the   largest    business   establishments. 


ADAM   SMITH.  337 

Are  you  surprised  that  there  is  poverty  ?  Are  you  sur- 
prised that  the  multiplied  horrors  of  their  life  should  drive 
many  to  intemperance,  thence  to  more  bitter  poverty 
still '?  Are  you  amazed,  even  when  wages  reach  the  mu- 
nificent sum  of  two  or  three  dollars  a  day,  employment 
being  irregular  and  family  sickness  frequent,  that  it  is  not 
easy  to  lay  anything  by,  and  that  the  hopelessness  of  the 
fight  should  induce  recklessness  and  despair?  I  cannot 
say  that  I  am.  I  am  rather  persuaded  that  much  of  the 
prevalent  indigence  and  appalling  destitution  may  be 
traced  to  the  mistaken  notion  that  social  and  economic 
laws  teach  that  capital  in  its  own  interest  must  wring 
from  labor  all  that  it  can  get.  There  never  was  a  greater 
delusion ;  for,  as  I  have  already  argued,  there  is  no  law  hu- 
man or  divine,  that  countenances  such  insane  and  barbar- 
ous inequalities. 

If  it  shall  be  said  there  is  no  help  for  what  appears  to 
be  so  hard  on  labor,  I  deny  it.  The  study  of  Sociology  is 
yet  in  its  infancy.  There  must  be  an  outlet  from  the 
present  confusion  and  muddle.  After  ages  of  pain  and 
thought  we  have  reached  the  conclusion  that  government 
is  for  the  well-being  of  the  many,  and  that  the  ruler  of  a 
nation  is  the  servant  of  the  people,  not  their  dictator; 
and  in  time  to  come  we  shall  be  able  to  formulate  a  simi- 
lar organizing  principle  for  society,  which,  while  discard- 
ing the  blunders  of  Communism,  will  direct  the  energies  of 
commerce  and  trade  in  every  department  toward  the  hap- 
piness of  the  many,  not  as  at  present,  for  the  lordly  afflu- 
ence of  the  few.  Then  capital  will  be  the  brother  of  labor, 
not  its  king;  and  then  labor  will  be  the  friend  of  capital, 
not  its  slave.  Another  Adam  Smith  will  in  coming  years 
assuredly  arise,  and  in  a  work  grander  than  the  Wealth  of 
Nations  will  discourse  on  the  true  relations  that  exist  be- 
tween the  employer  and  the  employed;  and  will  point  out 
how  the  rich  gifts  of  providence  can  be  distributed  more 
22 


338  ISMS  OLD   AND   NEW. 

equally  among  all  classes.  He  will  doubtless  show  that  a 
State  cannot  afford  quietly  to  look  on  and  see  its  citizens 
pauperized;  that  it  must  legislate  in  the  interest  of  the 
masses  for  the  sake  of  its  national  spirit;  and  he  will  un- 
questionably demonstrate  that  capital  and  labor  can  coop- 
erate to  the  advantage  of  both,  and  that  by  regulating 
competition,  and  by  educating  and  even  providing  for  the 
young,  so  that  they  do  not,  as  at  present,  enter  into  disas- 
trous rivalry  with  their  seniors,  many  of  the  accursed  evils 
which  have  domesticated  themselves  among  us  may  be 
cured  at  least  in  part,  if  not  altogether. 

In  the  meanwhile  is  it  suggested  that  wealthy  employ- 
ers must  give  to  charitable  institutions  for  the  ameliora- 
tion of  crying  evils?  If  they  can  do  nothing  better,  let 
them  do  that.  But  let  it  not  be  forgotten  that  what  the 
working  classes  require  is  ampler  remuneration,  not  char- 
ity, a  fair  equivalent  for  service  rendered,  not  an  alms. 
They  demand  what  belongs  to  them  as  men,  not  what  is 
due  the  infirm  and  helpless.  Take  the  money  that  might 
be  given  to  benevolent  organizations  and  pay  honest  toil 
a  better  price,  and  you  will  soon  render  their  existence 
unnecessary.  Christian  capitalists  should  do  this,  even  if 
none  others  do.  While  our  public  charities  are  in  one 
sense  our  glory,  in  another  they  are  our  shame;  for  they 
proclaim  the  vice,  injustice,  stupidity,  and  oppression  that 
have  rendered  their  existence  imperative.  Get  rid  of 
them  as  rapidly  as  possible  by  a  new  and  wiser  course 
toward  the  dependent.  If  men  of  means  would  incorpo- 
rate their  private  donations  and  their  public  contributions 
into  their  wage  list  they  could  abate  their  own  taxes,  and 
they  would  at  the  same  time  abate  Pauperism  and  con- 
tribute to  the  permanent  prosperity  of  society. 

Another  source  of  the  evil  we  are  considering  can  be 
detected  in  the  blundering,  undiscriminating  methods  of 
charity  which  we  have  adopted,  and  which  we  adhere  to 


WAR2UKGS    FROM   HISTORY.  339 

in  the  face  of  protests  uttered  by  observation  and  experi- 
ence. History  confirms  with  its  testimony  the  fact  that 
lavish  and  unguarded  benevolence  tends  to  pauperize  a 
community.  Lecky  shows  that  among  the  Romans  corn 
was  freely  distributed  to  the  people,  and  that  under  Caius 
Gracchus  it  was  sold  by  the  government  at  a  merely  nom- 
inal rate.  These  measures  were  corrupted  by  conscience- 
less men  who  sought  the  popular  favor,  and  in  the  time  of 
Julius  CcEsar  three  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  persons 
were  recipients  of  state  assistance,  and  the  number  in- 
creased to  eight  hundred  thousand  under  the  Antonines. 
The  result  was  demoralizing;  industry  was  paralyzed. 
The  people  were  not  satisfied  with  the  corn;  they  de- 
manded and  received  oil  and  meat  in  addition.  In  time 
they  looked  upon  these  gratuities  as  their  right,  and,  in 
proportion  as  they  did  so,  they  fell  away  from  that  self- 
reliant  manhood  that  had  formerly  been  their  country's 
glory.  Similar  results  followed  the  excessive  and  incon- 
siderate charity  of  the  church  of  the  middle  ages,  so  that 
at  the  dawn  of  the  Reformation  Europe  was  an  extensive 
poor-house.  It  had  destroyed  forethought  and  prudence, 
had  multiplied  religious  impostors,  and  established  beg- 
ging fraternities.  Spencer,  in  a  few  sharp  sentences, 
shows  the  baleful  effects  of  the  Elizabethan  poor-laws  — 
1601, —  and  it  is  well  known  that  these  and  other  public 
and  private  benefactions  entailed  such  frightful  evils  on 
England  that  they  had  to  be  made  the  subject  of  Parlia- 
mentary inquiry,  and  so  grave  have  been  the  disclosures 
that  various  writers,  reviewing  the  past  and  the  present, 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  "  that  charity  is  the  real 
cause  of  Pauperism."  While  I  cannot  go  as  far,  I  yet 
firmly  believe  that  when  it  is  indiscriminately  adminis- 
tered it  fosters  the  evil  it  ought  t'o  allay.  In  France, 
after  many  bitter  experiences,  especially  from  the  years 
1693  to  1793,  legislation  succeeded  in  reducing  Pauperism 


340  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

by  enforcing  the  principles  of  industry,  and  in  my  opinion 
it  can  be  restrained  only  by  the  adoption  of  similar  meas- 
ures. 

There  are  two  classes  of  poor,  the  worthy  and  the  un- 
worthy, or,  as  they  have  been  distinguished  by  some  one, 
"the  Lord's  poor  and  the  devil's  poor,"  "the  poor  of  provi- 
dence and  the  poor  of  improvidence."  As  a  rule  the  latter 
always  get  whatever  the  generous  have  to  bestow.  If  you 
have  a  relief  society  you  will  find  it  taken  possession  of  by 
those  who  have  no  claims  on  its  bounty.  They  crowd  the 
worthy  out,  and  systematically  deceive  the  benevolent. 
Much  money  is  daily  given  away  to  unknown  applicants 
by  individuals  who  have  not  the  leisure  to  scrutinize  their 
character.  It  is  bestowed  in  the  hope  that  it  may  not  be 
misapplied,  and  yet  frequently  this  liberality  is  guilty  of 
a  double  wrong, —  it  encourages  the  improvident,  and  by 

consuming  the  means  that  mio-ht  have  relieved  the  deserv- 
es O 

ing  robs  them  of  what  God  ordained  as  their  portion.  The 
only  safety  lies  in  rigid,  though  kindly,  examination  of  all 
persons  who  desire  assistance.  To  render  this  effectual 
there  should  be  an  organization  and  unification  of  all 
charities.  The  community  should  be  districted,  and  after 
proper  care  the  names  enrolled  of  all  who  are  deserving  of 
help.  This  course  has  been  pursued  in  several  cities  with 
marked  success.  It  has  found  out  the  worthy  who  really 
needed  help,  and  it  has  exposed  the  worthless  who  were 
following  mendicancy  as  a  business.  Wherever  it  has  been 
adopted  Pauperism  has  declined,  and  the  community  been 
purged  of  its  worst  and  most  demoralizing  elements. 

In  this  connection  I  am  constrained  to  say  that  the 
failure  to  keep  before  us  the  true  end  of  charity  has  mili- 
tated against  its  efficacy.  Discrimination  is  imperatively 
demanded  here.  The  design  of  benevolence  is  not  merely 
1<>  mitigate  present  misery,  but  rather  to  help  the  unfortu- 
nate permanently  to  help  themselves.     Christ,  in  His  min- 


DUTY   OF  THE   CHURCH.  341 

istry,  restored  to  the  helpless  their  sight  or  their  strength, 
so  that  they  could  independently  earn  their  bread,  and 
in  so  doing  He  has  given  us  an  example  to  follow.  While 
occasions  are  frequent  when  temporary  relief  is  needed, 
and  should  be  given,  philanthropy  should  seek  above  all 
else  to  make  the  poor  self-sustaining.  It  should  seek  to 
awaken  feelings  of  personal  dignity  and  self-respect  in 
their  breasts,  and  encourage  them  to  rely  on  their  own 
energies.  Hence  it  should  always  rather  provide  work 
than  bread,  opportunity  than  clothing,  situations  in  which 
to  toil  rather  than  institutions  in  which  to  rest.  Were 
this  kind  of  discrimination  practiced,  I  am  satisfied  we 
would  soon  rejoice  in  a  more  provident  and  prosperous 
people. 

One  more  thought  and  I  am  done.  Of  late  I  have  come 
to  believe  that  the  thrift  of  poverty  in  our  times  may  to 
some  extent  be  attributed  to  the  church.  It  seems  to  me 
that  she  has  divorced  from  her  altars  that  work  of  charity 
which  she  received  from  her  Lord,  and  which  in  the  primi- 
tive age  was  her  glory.  Understand  me,  I  do  not  mean 
that  her  members  do  not  aid  the  suffering  in  private,  or 
fail  to  sustain  public  measures  by  their  sympathy  and 
their  alms.  I  presume  that  they  give  liberally  in  various 
directions  and  encourage  nearly  every  humanitarian  cause. 
What  I  complain  of  is  not  that,  but  that  as  an  organization 
she  does  comparatively  so  little  for  the  relief  of  the  desti- 
tute. She  has  handed  over  this  ministry  to  other  bodies. 
She  contributes  to  the  support  of  these  bodies  and  surren- 
ders to  them  the  field.  As  a  consequence  we  hear  it  fre- 
quently said  that  this  or  that  benevolent  society  is  doing 
more  for  the  poor  than  the  church.  A  reproach  is  taken 
up  against  us  that  diminishes  our  influence  on  society. 
That  were,  of  course,  a  small  matter,  were  the  work  for 
which  we  are  responsible  accomplished;  but  it  is  not,  and 
in  my  judgment  never  can  be  by  any  other  instrumental- 


342  ISMS   OLD   AND    NEW. 

ity.  The  more  dependent  classes  are  drifting  away  from 
us,  because  the  impression  has  steadily  grown  that  the 
church  as  such  is  not  interested  in  them.  When  they  learn 
that  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  obtain  money  to  bury  her 
poor,  and  more  difficult  to  find  means  to  keep  them  alive, 
they  naturally  take  it  as  a  hint  that  they  are  not  wanted. 
It  is  impossible  to  explain  that  the  members  are  now  bur- 
dened with  the  demands  of  this  or  that  institution,  for  the 
unfortunate  are  not  in  the  mood  for  drawing  nice  distinc- 
tions. They  judge  from  the  surface,  and  as  it  appears 
on  the  surface  that  very  inadequate  provision  is  made  for 
their  class,  they  look  upon  themselves  as  thrust  out  from 
the  household  of  faith.  Of  course  they  are  wrong,  but  the 
onlv  way  to  convince  them  of  the  fact  is  for  the  church  to 
resume  her  functions  as  a  philanthropic  society. 

I  am  urgent  on  this  point.  She  has  committed  her 
temperance  work  to  reform  societies  of  more  or  less  effi- 
ciency; she  has  surrendered  her  city  missions  to  the  care 
of  independent  organizations,  and  even  her  members,  when 
they  develop  marked  ability  and  exceptional  zeal,  too  fre- 
quently set  up  for  themselves,  or  go  out  and  do  for  Young 
Men's  Christian  Associations  what  they  ought  to  do  within 
her  boundaries  and  for  her  success.  Rapidly  she  is  depriv- 
ing herself  of  everything  like  a  distinctive  mission  among 
men.  Complex  union  meetings  and  special  evangelistic 
efforts  she  substitutes  for  her  own  direct  endeavors  to  win 
souls  to  Christ;  movements  to  succor  penitent  criminals 
or  to  aid  the  worthy  poor  she  allows  to  take  her  place  in 
bringing  help  and  healing,  and  what  is  left  to  her  of  actual 
service  to  mankind  is  hardly  worth  recording.  If  ever  the 
church  perishes  it  will  be  because  she  has  rendered  herself 
unnecessary  to  the  world;  and  if  ever  she  regains  her  posi- 
tion she  must  resume  her  God-given  vocation,  have  less 
care  about  being  aristocratic  and  ornamental,  and  become 
practical  and  useful.      Nor  can  she  better  begin  her  refor- 


MOTIVES   TO   BEKEVOLEJSCE.  343 

mation  than  by  taking  up  her  long-neglected  ministry  to 
the  indigent,  seeking  them  out  and  enriching  them  with 
her  beneficence. 

Do  you  suggest  that  such  a  course  would  call  to  her  a 
host  of  impostors  and  of  worthless  idlers?  Possibly:  but 
she  is  under  no  obligation  to  give  her  money  to  them, 
and  a  little  judicious  discrimination  would  soon  disperse 
them.  But  supposing  that  they  came,  the  message  of 
truth  from  her  lips  might  reclaim  many,  and  the  thousands 
of  others  who  would  throng  her  courts  would  be  stimulated 
to  earnest  endeavor  and  industry.  It  is  her  influence  on 
character  that  renders  her  so  important  an  instrumentality 
in  curing  the  evil  of  poverty.  She  is  able  to  quicken  dor- 
mant sensibilities,  to  arouse  slumbering  energies,  and  to 
awaken  manly  aspirations.  Thousands  have  received  new 
life  at  her  altars,  and  have  gone  forth  animated  by  a  new 
hope  to  conquer  for  themselves  a  support  in  the  world.  It 
is  this  work  that  other  societies  cannot  do,  and  it  is  this 
that  is  especially  needed  to  diminish  the  proportions  of 
pauperism,  and  which,  in  failing  to  accomplish  by  alienat- 
ing the  poor,  the  church  stands  justly  charged  wTith  re- 
sponsibility for  its  present  magnitude  and  strength. 

My  brethren,  surely  the  time  has  come  for  us  to  return 
to  the  Lord's  plan.  Among  us  there  are  children  to  be 
clothed,  widows  to  be  aided,  and  afflicted  ones  to  be  cared 
for.  Here  and  now  determine  to  be  mother,  friend  and 
benefactor  to  them  all,  so  that  within  your  ample  bound- 
aries no  child  of  God  shall  cry  in  vain  for  bread,  and  no 
worthy  fellow-being  look  despairingly  for  sympathy  or 
succor.  A  modest  sum  added  to  your  pew-rent  will  be  all- 
sufficient,  and  this  supplemented  by  your  prayers  and 
thoughtful  love  will  carry  an  enduring  blessing  to  many  a 
melancholy  home  and  to  many  a  discouraged  heart.  Yea, 
your  gracious  ministry  will  return  the  benediction  to  your 
own  soul.     It  will  bless  the  giver  more  than  the  receiver. 


344  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

You  will  sleep  more  warmly  in  the  coming  winter  nights, 
because  of  the  mantle  you  have  thrown  around  the  form  of 
shivering  need;  you  will  tread  more  firmly  the  declining 
years  for  the  staff  of  support  you  have  placed  in  the  hands 
of  aged  distress,  and  you  will  sing  more  sweetly  for  the  mel- 
odies you  have  awakened  in  the  once  mute  or  wailing  bosom 
of  gnawing  want.  Light  will  have  new  pleasure  for  you 
when  it  falls  radiant  from  thankful  eyes,  and  no  diamond 
that  ever  shone  on  maiden's  brow  will  be  to  you  as  pre- 
cious as  the  silent,  glistening  tear  of  gratitude  bedewing 
your  hand  of  charity.  As  you  draw  nearer  to  the  poor, 
the  Savior  will  come  nearer  you.  In  their  presence  you 
will  feel  that  you  are  in  His.  The  legends  of  Saint  Chris- 
topher and  of  Saint  Julien  will  be  translated  into  the  ver- 
nacular of  your  experience.  The  orphan  child  you  carry 
across  the  swirling  stream  in  your  embrace  will  grow  into 
the  Christ,  and  the  stranger  you  rescue  from  the  pitiless 
storm  and  from  the  dreary  night  will  be  transformed  into 
the  Savior;  and  then  will  you  discern  the  meaning  of  those 
gracious  words:  "As  ye  did  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these,  ye  did  it  unto  me."  And  then,  stealing  over  your 
soul  like  the  music  of  the  morning,  will  sweetly  chime  the 
Master's  welcome,  assurance  of  eternal  rest:  "Come,  ye 
blessed  of  my  father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for 
you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world." 


ALTRUISM. 

"  For  whosoever  will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it,  and  whosoever 
shall  lose  his  life  for  my  sake  shall  find  it."  Matt,  xvi,  25. 

"Abou  Ben  Adhem, —  may  his  tribe  increase ! — 
Awoke  one  night  from  a  deep  dream  of  peace, 
And  saw  amid  the  moonlight  in  his  room, 
Making  it  rich,  and  like  a  lily  in  bloom, 
An  angel  writing  in  a  book  of  gold ; 
Exceeding  peace  had  made  Ben  Adhem  bold, 
And  to  the  vision  in  the  room  he  said, 
'  What  writest  thou  ? '    The  vision  raised  its  head, 
And  with  a  voice  mr.de  of  all  sweet  accord 
Replied,  '  The  names  of  them  that  love  the  Lord.' 
'  And  is  mine  one  ? '  said  Abou.     '  Nay,  not  so,' 
Replied  the  angel.    Abou  spoke  more  low, 
But  cheerly  still,  and  said,  '  I  pray  thee,  then, 
Write  me  as  one  who  loves  his  fellow  men.' 

"The  angel  wrote  and  vanished.     The  next  night 
He  came  again  with  a  great  wakening  light ; 
He  showed  the  names  whom  love  of  God  had  blest, 
And  lo!  Ben  Adhem's  name  led  all  the  rest." 

Leigh  Hunt. 

WHILE  with  deepest  solicitude  a  serious  man  will 
address  himself  to  the  question  of  his  soul's  salva- 
tion, with  hardly  less  earnestness  will  he  seek  to  know 
how  he  may  save  his  life.  The  two  lines  of  inquiry, 
though  intimately  blending,  are  not  identical;  for  even 
when  anxiety  regarding  the  future  world  has  been  entirely 
allayed,  dissatisfaction  with  the  experiences  of  the  present 
may  be  sorely  felt.  Many  religious  people  who  have  no 
kind  of  doubt  as  to  their  acceptance  with  God  are  pain- 
fully  conscious  that   they   are   of    little   service    to   man. 

345 


346  ISMS   OLD    AND    NEW. 

They  find  no  genuine  enjoyment  in  their  pursuits,  their 
triumphs  and  their  pleasures.  Their  daily  life  is  barren, 
commonplace  and  uninteresting.  They  grow  infinitely 
fatigued  with  its  routine,  and  were  it  not  impious,  they 
could  wish  for  its  speedy  termination.  Their  attitude  is 
one  of  moody  resignation  and  of  stolid  submission.  Life 
is  endured  because  it  would  be  sinful  to  end  it,  and  its 
ghastly  possessors  smile  sepulchrally  at  each  other,  and  try 
to  make  each  other  believe  that  it  is  relished.  The  thin 
hypocrisy,  however,  cannot  conceal  the  truth  that  a  very 
large  number  of  people,  religious  and  non-religious,  have 
no  very  distinct  idea  as  to  why  they  were  born,  what  they 
are  here  for,  or  how  they  are  to  derive  from  existence  suf- 
ficient satisfaction  to  compensate  for  the  evils  they  are 
forced  to  endure.  Life  to  them  is  a  sky  without  stars,  a 
star  without  radiance,  a  garden  without  flowers,  a  flower 
without  perfume,  an  orchestra  without  music,  music  with- 
out harmony.  Evidently  they  have  missed  its  secret, 
have  not  discovered  its  art,  and  are  in  imminent  peril  of 
dying  without  having  truly  lived. 

When  they  are  oppressed  by  the  consciousness  of  this 
fact,  and  begin  to  discern  and  believe  that  there  must  be 
a  sweetness  and  profit  in  life-  hitherto  concealed  from 
them,  and  to  inquire  with  reference  to  it,  "  What  must  I 
do  to  be  saved  ?  "  a  crisis  is  reached  only  second,  if  indeed 
it  be  second,  to  that  which  prompted  the  soul  to  give 
utterance  to  a  similar  cry  when  burdened  with  a  sense  of 
guilt.  And  it  is  a  cause  of  rejoicing  that  the  Book  which 
furnishes  an  adequate  answer  to  the  appeal  of  the  soul 
has  not  failed  to  supply  a  principle  for  the  conservation  of 
the  life.  That  principle  is  stated  tersely  and  paradoxically 
in  the  words  of  the  text, —  words  which  we  shall  do  well 
to  lay  to  heart  on  the  close  of  this  sermon-series, —  and 
which,  if  fairly  interpreted  and   honestly  received,    may 


SPINOZA   AND   GEORGE    ELIOT.  347 

render  our  future  more  useful,  and  infinitely  more  gratify- 
ing, than  has  been  our  past. 

George  Eliot  has  given  her  reading  of  the  problem, 
representing  a  school  of  thought  which  is  entitled  to 
respectful  consideration,  though  it  may  at  times  awaken 
commiseration.  In  early  years,  influenced  by  such  books 
as  Strauss'  Life  of  Jesus  and  Feuerbach's  Essence  of 
Christianity,  she  drifted  away  from  the  faith  of  the 
church,  and  embraced  sentiments  which  are  now  currently 
known  as  "Altruistic."  She  was  undoubtedly  the  grand- 
est representative  and  the  noblest  advocate  which  these 
views  have  ever  had,  and  what  she  has  not  directly  or  in- 
directly said  in  their  behalf  is  hardly  worth  saying.  While 
the  essence  of  Altruism  is  expressed  by  Spinoza  in  the 
famous  passage  "  He  who  loves  God  must  not  desire  God 
to  love  him  in  return,"  we  get  a  clearer  view  of  its  sweep 
and  scope  from  the  works  of  its  acknowledged  champion. 
According  to  its  teachings,  the  religion  of  humanity  pre- 
scribes as  its  first,  and  perhaps  only,  law  that  we  should 
devote  ourselves  absolutely  to  the  well-being  of  others, 
and  should  so  subordinate  every  selfish  instinct  to  this 
supreme  object  as  to  be  unaffected  by  hopes  of  rewards  or 
fears  of  punishment.  Virtue  is  identified  with  total  dis- 
interestedness, and  duty  is  degraded,  loses  its  character, 
and  is  changed  to  expediency  when  it  is  associated  with 
thought  of  motives.  Immortality,  the  world  beyond,  the 
favor  of  God,  and  even  the  happiness  of  self,  are  unworthy 
a  moment's  attention;  for  the  former  are  beclouded  with 
uncertainty,  and  the  latter  consideration  is  utterly  despi- 
cable. Altruism  and  Agnosticism  shake  hands,  and  are  in 
brotherly  agreement.  The  second  claims  that  we  are  in 
ignorance  concerning  everything  beyond  the  range  of  our 
senses,  and  the  first  declares  that  we  ought  not  to  permit 
the  Unknowable  to  influence  our  conduct.  Unquestionably 
George  Eliot  is  correct  in  magnifying  the  duty  of  loving 


348  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

self-sacrifice  for  others.  This  is  essentially  the  doctrine  of 
the  Bible.  We  are  "to  esteem  others  better  than  our- 
selves," we  are  to  "love  our  neighbor  as  ourselves,"  we 
are  "  to  bear  each  other's  burdens,"  and  so  to  "  fulfill  the 
law  of  Christ."  Nay  more,  we  are  also  to  devote  our- 
selves to  God's  service,  and  to  surrender  all  that  we  have, 
if  necessary,  to  further  His  holy  will  and  pleasure.  We 
are  to  count  ourselves  least,  to  hold  ourselves  as  dead  to 
our  own  selfish  interests,  and  to  count  not  our  life  dear  if 
we  can  by  any  means  save  others.  To  this  extent  Chris- 
tianity is  altruistic,  and  as  far  as  this  central  principle 
of  self-abnegation  goes  I  have  only  words  of  respect  and 
admiration  for  this  Ism  and  its  advocates.  But  Christian- 
ity does  not  sanction  their  wholesale  repudiation  of  mo- 
tives. While  it  is  far  from  appealing  to  selfish  fear  or 
mercenary  hope,  it  does  recognize  the  fact  that  man  is 
susceptible  to  various  influences,  and  that  he  is  moved  by 
inducements  more  or  less  refined  and  noble.  It  aims  to 
sway  him  by  considerations  which  will  meet  this  part  of 
his  nature,  and  yet  do  so  in  such  a  way  as  to  deepen  in 
his  heart  the  spirit  of  thoughtful  love  and  self-sacrifice  for 
others.  In  other  words,  its  supreme  motive  is  of  such  a 
character  that  the  more  it  is  felt  the  less  will  men  think  of 
themselves  or  of  their  own  interests,  and  the  less  will  they 
be  given  to  vain  egotism  and  narrow  selfishness.  This 
Christian  Altruism,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  combine  terms 
usually  hostile,  is  expressed  by  our  Lord  in  the  text,  and 
if  seriously  pondered  and  thorough^  comprehended  will, 
I  am  persuaded,  commend  itself  to  every  man's  conscience 
in  the  sight  of  God. 

After  the  disciples  had  confessed  that  Jesus  was  the 
Christ,  they  were  startled  and  overwhelmed  by  His  decla- 
ration "that  He  must  go  unto  Jerusalem,  and  suffer  many 
things  of  the  elders  and  chief  priests  and  scribes,  and  be 
killed,  and  be  raised  again  the  third  day."     This  volun- 


THE   REMONSTRANCE.  349 

tary  surrender  to  what  seemed  unnecessary  suffering  espe- 
cially appealed  to  the  feelings  of  Peter,  who  immediately 
and  earnestly  remonstrated,  saying:  "  Be  it  far  from 
Thee,  Master;  this  shall  not  be  unto  Thee."  In  our  ver- 
sion we  have  the  expression  that  Peter  "  rebuked  "  Jesus, 
but  the  original  does  not  convey  this  impression,  and  our 
own  sense  of  the  respect  in  which  the  disciple  must  have 
held  his  Lord  will  not  permit  us  to  suppose  that  he  pre- 
sumed to  employ  language  so  irreverent.  He  did  not 
reprove;  he  rather  expostulated  with  Him,  whom  he  had 
so  recently  acknowledged  as  the  Messiah,  and  sought  to 
dissuade  from  His  fatal  purpose.  The  marginal  reading 
reveals  the  spirit  in  which  the  apostle  made  this  appeal. 
As  there  given  his  language  is  "  Pity  Thyself,"  that  is, 
"Be  merciful  to  Thyself,  and  do  not  go  to  Jerusalem; 
attain  the  end  of  Thine  mission  without  suffering  and 
shame."  Alas  !  Peter,  like  many  of  my  readers,  did  not 
understand  the  real  significance  and  the  strange  mystery 
of  life.  He  seemed  to  labor  under  the  delusion  that 
Christ  could  accomplish  His  sublime  purpose  of  mercy  at 
ease,  surrounded  with  every  comfort,  in  an  autocratic 
manner,  and  that,  as  God  in  the  beginning  "  commanded 
and  it  stood  fast,"  so  all  that  the  Master  had  to  do  was 
"  to  speak  and  it  would  be  done."  This  seemed  to  be  his 
idea,  but  it  was  not  Christ's.  Rudely  was  he  roused  from 
his  delusion  by  the  stern  words  of  the  Savior,  almost  iden- 
tical with  those  addressed  to  Satan  on  the  occasion  of  the 
temptation,  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  for  thou  savorest  not 
the  things  that  be  of  God."  Just  as  the  devil  had  tried 
to  induce  Him  to  seek  an  easy  and  short  road  to  success 
by  "  falling  down  and  worshiping  him,"  so  Peter  had  pre- 
sumed to  suggest  the  possibility  of  victory  without  con- 
flict. In  both  instances  the  great  law  of  life  was  ignored, 
and  the  fruitful  source  of  its  perversion  and  failure  was 
insinuated. 


350  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

Straightway  the  Savior  corrects  the  error  of  His  ser- 
vant. He  shows  that  his  attitude  is  not  exceptional;  that 
he  is  neither  erratic  nor  eccentric,  but  that  what  is  true  of 
Himself  is  also  true  of  all  men.  Even  as  He  "to  rise 
again  the  third  day,"  with  power  and  in  glory,  and  to 
actualize  the  sublimest  possibilities  of  His  existence,  must 
travel  the  highway  of  death,  so  in  a  similar,  though  infe- 
rior sense,  every  disciple,  yea,  and  every  man  who  would 
save  his  life  from  uselessness,  perversion  and  dishonor, 
must  consent  to  lose  it.  There  is  one  law  applicable  to 
all  alike,  to  the  Savior  and  the  saint,  to  the  saint  and  the 
sinner.  The  seed-corn  "must  die  or  it  abideth  alone," 
but  if  it  die  it  "shall  bear  much  fruit."  There  is  that 
"  which  scattereth  and  yet  increaseth,"  and  there  is  "  that 
which  withholdeth  more  than  is  meet  and  that  tendeth  to 
poverty;"  and  there  is  that  which  deals  with  life  as  a 
miser  deals  with  money,  and  that  loses  it  at  the  end. 

Never  has  any  real  benefit  been  conferred  on  society, 
or  any  permanent  advantage  been  secured  without  cost- 
ing somebody  suffering  and  loss.  As  the  old  Latin  poet 
sings, 

"  Not  for  themselves  birds  rear  the  nest, 
Or  bears  its  woolly  fleece  the  sheep, 
Or  builds  the  bee  its  honeyed  rest, 
Or  drags  the  ox  the  ploughshare  deep." 

And  never  was  nest  yet  built  for  weary  humanity,  and 
never  was  covering  wrought  for  its  infirmities  and  sins, 
and  never  was  sweetness  extracted  from  the  flower  to 
mingle  with  the  bitterness  of  its  anguish,  and  never, 
never,  did  the  share  prepare  the  way  for  abundance  to 
meet  the  famine  of  its  mind  and  heart,  without  somebody 
performing  exacting  labor  and  enduring  exhausting  an- 
guish. The  names  of  martyrs,  heroes,  reformers,  explor- 
ers, scientists  and  philanthropists,  the  Polycarps,  the 
Winkelrieds,   the   Savonarolas,   the  Magellans,   the   Kep- 


HINDU   MYTHS.  351 

lers,  and  the  Howards,  are  perpetual  witnesses  that  no 
great  victory  has  yet  been  achieved  for  the  world  ajDart 
from  self-abnegation  and  self-surrender.  Death  seems  to 
be  the  condition  of  life,  and  vicariousness  the  law  of  prog- 
ress. If  we  would  deliver  others  from  evil  we  must  be  will- 
ing to  bear  evil  ourselves;  if  we  would  bring  others  into  the 
light  we  must  consent  ourselves  to  go  down  into  the  dark- 
ness; and  if  we  would  press  others  upward  to  the  mount  of 
Transfiguration  we  must  be  prepared  to  descend  into  the 
valley  of  Achor.  So  deeply  has  this  conviction  impressed 
the  human  mind,  and  interblended  with  its  thinking,  that 
in  the  literature,  and  especially  in  the  religions,  of  all 
lands  we  find  it  taking  shape  in  some  legend  or  doctrine 
by  which  the  relation  of  self-sacrifice  to  the  advancement 
and  well-being  of  society  or  the  world  is  maintained  and 
illustrated.  Perhaps  the  earliest  of  these  representations 
are  to  be  found  among  the  Hindus,  and  I  refer  to  them 
particularly  as  they  at  once  suggest  the  antiquity  and  the 
prevalence  of  the  principle  involved.  For  instance,  ac- 
cording to  authorities  cited  by  Johnson,  the  Rig  Veda 
is  supposed  to  teach  that  the  Supreme  Spirit  sacrificed 
himself  to  create  the  world;  and  Soma  is  exalted  in  the 
"  Hymns "  as  a  "  healer,  and  deliverer  from  pain,"  the 
Sdma  Veda  testifying  that  this  deity  "  submits  to  mortal 
birth,  and  is  bruised  and  afflicted  that  others  may  be 
saved."  But  the  most  splendid  and  thrilling  illustration 
of  this  doctrine  is  contained  in  the  Mahaprasthdnika 
Parva  of  the  Mahdbhdrata,  the  "  fable  of  faithful  love 
which  is  stronger  than  death."  It  will  repay  us  to  glance 
hastily  at  the  story,  as  it  is  given  by  Edwin  Arnold  in  his 
translation  published  recently  in  the  International  Re- 
view. 

The  kingly  family  of  the  Pandavas,  having  received 
from  saintly  Vyasa  a  view  of  the  invisible  world,  became 
discontented  with  royalty  and  determined  to  journey  to- 


352  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

ward  Mount  Meru,  "  where  is  Indra's  heaven,"  where  all 
sorrows  would  terminate  and  union  with  the  Infinite  be 
attained.  King  Yudhishthira,  his  sister  the  peerless 
Draupadi,  and  his  brethren,  Arjuna,  Sahadev,  Nakula, 
and  Bhimasena,  clothed  in  rough  habits,  moved  forward 
without  faltering  or  hesitancy,  through  tangled  forests 
and  across  the  "  wide  waste  of  sand,  dreadful  as  death," 
toward  the  East,  where  Paradise  blooms.  When  they 
came  in  sight  of  Meru,  Draupadi  fell  and  died  because  she 
loved  her  husband  "better  than  all  else,"  better  even  than 
heaven.  "  That  was  her  tender  sin,  fault  of  a  faultless 
soul."  Then  Sahadev  swooned  and  died,  because  "  wis- 
dom made  him  proud;"  then  Nakula  perished,  because  of 
self-satisfied  love;  then  Arjuna  followed,  because  "once 
he  lied  a  worldly  lie  and  bragged,"  and  then  Bhimasena, 
too,  because  he  "  fainted  and  stayed  upon  the  way,"  "  too 
much  devoted  to  the  goodly  things  of  earth." 

"  Thenceforth  alone  the  long-armed  monarch  strode, 
Not  looking  back  —  nay!  not  for  Bhinia's  sake, — 
But  walking  with  his  face  set  for  the  Mount. 
After  the  deathly  sands,  the  Mount!  and  lo! 
Sakra  shone  forth, —  the  God, —  filling  the  earth 
And  heavens  with  thunder  of  his  chariot  wheels. 
'Ascend,'  he  said,  'with  me,  Pritha's  great  son!' 
But  Yudhishthira  answered,  sore  at  heart 
For  those  his  kinsfolk,  fallen  on  the  way. 
******* 
'  They,  the  delightful  ones,  who  sank  and  died, 
Following  my  footsteps,  could  not  live  again 
Though  I  had  turned,—  therefore  I  did  not  turn ; 
But  could  help  profit,  I  had  turned  to  help.' 
Indra  smiled  and  said, 

'  O  thou  true  king, 
Thou  that  dost  bring  to  harvest  the  good  seed 
Of  Pandu's  righteousness  .  .  . 
Enter  thou  now  to  the  eternal  joys.'  " 

But  Yudhishthira  replied  that  he  could  not  consent  to 
tarry  where  his  loved  ones  were  not.     He  felt  that  it  was 


DEATHLESS    LOVE.  353 

his  duty  to  be  with  them  even  in  sorrow,  and  expressed  a 
wish  to  join  their  company.  A  golden  Deva  was  there- 
fore sent  to  conduct  him  where  his  kinsmen  were.  On- 
ward they  went  together  treading  "the  sinners'  road." 

"  The  tread  of  sinful  feet 
Matted  the  thick  thorns  carpeting  its  slope ; 
The  smell  of  sin  hung  foul  on  them ;  the  mire 
About  their  roots  was  trampled  filth  of  flesh 
Horrid  with  rottenness,  and  splashed  with  gore, 
Curdling  in  crimson  puddles ;  where  there  buzzed 
And  sucked  and  settled  creatures  of  the  swamp, 
Hideous  in  wing  and  sting,  gnat-clouds  and  flies, 
With  moths,  toads,  newts,  and  snakes  red-gulleted, 
And  livid,  loathsome  worms,  writhing  in  slime 
Forth  from  skull-holes  and  scalps  and  tumbled  bones." 

Thus  the  king  reached  Kutashala  Mali,  gate  of  utmost 
Hell,  and  for  a  moment  paused;  and  then  pressed  on  amid 
piteous  groans,  bringing  by  his  presence  mitigation  of 
suffering  to  the  wretched  captives.  At  last  he  meets  his 
unfortunate  relatives,  and  ministers  some  solace  to  their 
agonizing  hearts.  Finding  that  partnership  in  their  an- 
guish affords  them  relief,  he  exclaims: 

"  I  stand 
Here  in  the  throat  of  Hell,  and  here  will  bide  — 
Nay,  if  I  perish  —  while  my  well-beloved 
"Win  ease  and  peace  by  any  pains  of  mine." 

This  readiness  to  brave  hell  for  love  excited  the  admira- 
tion of  the  "  Presences  of  Paradise,"  and  they  told  him 
that  all  heaven  was  glad  because  of  him.  On  his  account, 
and  because  of  his  self-immolation,  his  friends  are  freed 
from  dread  despair,  and  with  him  enter  the  abode  of  the 
blessed  and  saved — "washed  from  soils  of  sin,  from  pas- 
sion, pain,  and  change." 

Beautiful  and  impressive  as  this  narrative  is,  it  does 
not  surpass  the  gospels  in  their  manner  of  enforcing  the 
23 


354  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

indispensableness  of  the  vicarious  principle.  The  entire 
movement  to  rescue  man  from  sin  and  death  proceeds  on 
the  supposition  of  its  efficacy.  Jesus  "  who  was  rich  be- 
comes poor,  that  we  through  His  poverty  might  be  rich"; 
"  He  dies  the  just  for  the  unjust  that  he  might  bring  us 
to  God  ";  "  He  redeems  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being 
made  a  curse  for  us";  and  thus  these  special  benefits  to 
us  are  all  conditioned  on  His  becoming  poor,  being  made 
a  curse,  and  suffering  the  pangs  of  death.  Explain  as  we 
may  the  precise  meaning  of  these  passages,  the  one  domi- 
nant thought  pervades  them  all,  that  to  save  the  life  of 
others  Jesus  had  to  lose  his  own.  The  same  principle 
reveals  itself  conspicuously  in  His  followers  and  in  their 
teachings.  Paul  could  wish  himself  accursed  from  Christ 
for  Israel's  sake;  Peter  rejoiced  in  being  a  partaker  of 
Christ's  sufferings;  and  perhaps  all  of  the  sacred  writers 
in  some  form  recognized  the  fact  that  nothing  could  be 
done  for  the  world  in  the  spirit  of  self-seeking  or  of  self- 
indulgent  somnolence.  We  may,  therefore,  conclude  that 
on  no  point  in  the  entire  domain  of  religious  and  moral 
thought  is  there  such  general  agreement  as  on  this;  and 
that,  if  we  would  really  help  the  world,  we  must  be  ready 
to  surrender  self  in  sacrifice. 

To  understand  what  our  Lord  means  by  losing  life  we 
may  with  profit  consult  the  force  of  the  prescription  con- 
tained in  the  preceding  verse.  He  there  declares  that  His 
disciples  must  deny  themselves,  must  take  up  their  cross 
and  follow  Him.  As  this  unquestionably  is  tantamount  to 
"losing  life,"  it  is  of  the  highest  moment  that  we  should 
apprehend  distinctly  the  meaning  of  the  language.  It 
may  also  assist  us  to  remember  that  He  Himself  is  the 
clearest  exemplification  of  the  principle  He  inculcates, 
and  that  it  must  aid  us  to  study  it  in  the  light  of  His 
personal  history. 

Certainly  by  self-denial  He  does  not  intend  to  recom- 


LAW    OP   SELF-SACRIFICE.  355 

mend  anything  of  an  artificial  and  perfunctory  character. 
There  have  always  been  ascetically-minded  individuals 
who  have  interpreted  our  Lord's  words  as  enjoining  some 
self-imposed  sufferings.  Hence  they  have  afflicted  their 
bodies,  have  sought  out  curious  means  of  torturing  them- 
selves, as  though  a  man  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty  would 
not  encounter  trials  and  pains  enough  to  satisfy  the  most 
morbid  without  taking  the  trouble  to  invent  them.  They 
have  scourged  themselves  with  whips,  as  though  the  ene- 
mies of  righteousness  would  fail  to  scourge  them  with 
scorpions  ;  they  have  withdrawn  from  their  families,  as 
though  their  flesh  and  blood  would  not  of  its  own  accord 
raise  its  hand  against  godliness;  and  they  have  alienated 
their  property  and  voluntarily  become  poor,  as  though 
there  were  not  worldly  cormorants  in  sufficient  numbers, 
and  with  appetites  sufficiently  voracious,  to  devour  all 
their  substance.  Saints  of  a  less  heroic  mood  have  felt 
it  incumbent  on  themselves  to  wear  unsightly  garments, 
to  look  with  scorn  on  the  harmless  amusements  of  society, 
to  perform  vigils  and  fastings,  and  to  make  themselves  as 
unamiable  and  as  uncomfortable  as  possible.  But  Christ 
never  countenanced  in  His  own  life  any  such  interpreta- 
tion of  His  words.  He  never  formally  undertook  a  fast. 
When  He  abstained  from  bread  the  stress  of  His  feelings 
was  such  that  He  had  no  appetite  for  food.  He  never 
withdrew  from  a  pleasure  that  came  not  in  the  way  of  His 
work,  nor  did  He  wear  a  robe  to  distinguish  Him  from 
others,  and  equally  far  was  it  from  His  thought  to  afflict 
His  body  in  any  way.  In  other  words,  He  never  regarded 
it  as  needful  to  be  His  own  enemy  in  a  world  where  ene- 
mies were  thick  on  every  side.  Whatever  difficulties, 
whatever  sufferings,  whatever  burdens  had  to  be  endured 
in  the  course  of  His  ministry,  He  submitted  to  unrepin- 
ingly  and  patiently,  and  these  were  as  much  as  He  could 
bear.     And  it  is  not  necessary,  nor  is  it  modest,  for  the 


356  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

disciple  to  pretend  to  a  higher  degree  of  self-abnegation 
than  his  Lord.  He,  too,  will  have  his  trials  and  his  ago- 
nies, and  if  he  will  only  meet  them  in  the  sjjirit  of  his 
.Master  he  need  not  undertake  to  convert  his  meager  gar- 
den into  a  wilderness,  nor  his  little  day  into  night. 

Not  infrequently  are  Christians  heard  to  speak  of  du- 
ties as  crosses  to  be  borne,  and  I  am  convinced  that  some 
among  them  regard  their  performance  as  a  complete  com- 
pliance with  the  law  of  self-denial.  It  is  a  cross  to  pray, 
to  speak,  to  commend  Christ  to  others,  to  attend  church, 
to  frequent  the  social  meetings,  and,  indeed,  to  do  any- 
thing of  a  distinctly  religious  nature.  By  the  force  of 
their  will  and  with  the  aid  of  sundry  admonitions  they 
bring  themselves  up  to  the  discharge  of  these  obligations, 
but  on  the  whole  they  feel  that  it  should  entitle  them  to  a 
place  in  "the  noble  army  of  martyrs."  I  am  sorry  to  dissi- 
pate the  comfortable  illusion,  but  I  am  compelled  to  assure 
them  that  they  totally  misapprehend  the  doctrine  of  our 
Lord.  He  said  that  it  was  His  meat  and  drink  to  do  the 
will  of  His  Father,  and  He  never  once  refers  to  duty  in 
any  other  way  than  as  a  delight.  The  cross  was  something 
distinct  from  it,  and  incidental  to  it,  but  never  to  be  iden- 
tified with  it;  and  if  we  look  upon  it  otherwise,  if  we  find 
no  honest  joy  in  the  service  of  God,  and  if  we  fail  to  dis- 
criminate between  that  and  the  pangs  and  pains  to  which 
it  may  give  rise,  we  shall  fall  infinitely  short  of  the 
conception  embodied  in  the  language  of  Christ. 

To  deny  oneself,  to  take  up  the  cross,  denotes  some- 
thing immeasurably  grander  than  self-imposed  penance  or 
rigid  conformity  to  a  Divine  statute.  It  is  the  free  sur- 
render of  self  to  an  ennobling  work,  an  absolute  subordi- 
nation of  personal  advantages  and  of  personal  pleasures 
for  the  sake  of  truth  and  the  welfare  of  others,  and  a  will- 
ing acceptance  of  every  disability  which  their  interests 
may  entail.     It  is  the  sacrifice  of  life,  as  life  is  understood 


~< 


ILLUSTRATIONS  357 

among  men,  of  the  absorbing  care  with  which  it  is  usually 
regarded,  of  the  greatness  to  which  it  may  attain,  of  the 
comforts  which  it  may  enjoy,  and  of  the  honors  where- 
with it  may  be  crowned.  In  Christ  this  spirit  prompted, 
for  the  sake  of  human  redemption,  the  abandonment  of 
heaven's  glory  and  the  endurance  of  earthly  shame.  It 
constrained  Him  to  become  of  no  reputation,  to  assume 
the  form  of  a  servant,  and  to  carry  His  obedience  even 
unto  the  death  of  the  cross.  In  such  a  man  as  Paul  it 
moved  him  to  seek  the  world's  welfare  at  the  expense  of 
his  social  standing,  his  friends'  approval,  his  earthly  pros- 
pects, and  his  personal  safety.  In  such  men  as  Bruno  and 
Galileo  it  inspired,  for  the  emancipation  of  truth  as  truth, 
a  zeal  and  self-forgetfulness,  and  the  sacrifice  of  ecclesias- 
tical favor,  the  comforts  of  home,  and  the  dignities  of  life. 
In  the  mother,  for  the  sake  of  her  children,  it  leads  to 
wakefulness  while  others  sleep,  to  solicitude  when  others 
laugh,  and  to  an  absolute  merging  of  her  selfhood  in 
theirs.  She  carries  their  burdens,  drinks  deeper  of  their 
sorrows  than  of  her  own,  and  deprives  herself  of  every 
pleasure  that  theirs  may  be  increased.  In  the  patriot  it 
creates  an  unselfish  devotion  that  influences  him  to  subor- 
dinate personal  preferences,  considerations,  aspirations  and 
ambitions  to  the  public  weal.  And  in  the  minister  of  the 
gospel  it  enkindles  a  flame  of  love,  a  consuming  passion 
for  the  salvation  and  elevation  of  humanity,  in  which  all 
thought  of  self  is  burned  away,  and  before  which  all  idea 
of  self-aggrandizement,  reputation  and  honor  is  brought  to 
naught.  Possible  in  every  calling  and  pursuit,  and  among 
every  class  and  condition  of  mankind,  its  radical  character- 
istic is  a  recognition  of  something  in  the  universe  grander 
than  personal  well-being,  and  a  voluntary  cousecration  of 
everything  that  enters  into  temporal  well-being  to  the 
interests  of  whatever  that  ideal  something  may  be. 

This,  in  my  opinion,  is  what  the  Savior  meant  by  "  los- 


358  ISMS   OLD   AND   NEW. 

ing  life,"  and  doubtless  when  He  laid  aside  His  glory  and 
entered  into  the  world  of  sin,  the  angels,  who  understood 
not  the  mystery  of  redemption,  plead  with  Him,  as  did 
Peter,  at  a  later  day,  "to  be  pitiful  to  himself."  I  can 
conceive  of  them  as  meekly  remonstrating  with  Him  not 
to  lose  His  life,  for  to  their  sight,  blinded  by  excess  of 
peaceful  blessedness,  it  must  have  seemed  that  His  self- 
sacrifice  was  indeed  the  extreme  of  unthriftiness.  But  if 
they  never  indulged  so  misguided  a  judgment,  it  cannot 
be  said  that  our  fellow-beings  have  been  wiser.  Many  of 
them  have  only  seen  in  self-sacrifice  the  wildest  fanaticism 
and  the  most  foolish  prodigality.  To  the  apostle  bound 
to  go  to  Jerusalem  and  to  Rome,  where  dangers  and  ene- 
mies awaited  him,  they  have  uttered  their  protest  born  of 
worldly  wisdom.  To  the  scientist  they  have  said:  "Why 
pursue  your  investigations  at  such  a  cost  as  your  ease  and 
happiness?  Why  not- cherish  your  opinions  in  secret,  and 
leave  an  ungrateful  and  unsympathizing  community  to  its 
ignorance?  Be  merciful  to  thyself."  To  the  mother  they 
have  offered  their  commiseration,  and  have  not  hesitated 
to  express  the  conviction  that  she  was  wasting  her  life, 
and  that  she  should  eat,  drink,  dance,  and  be  merry,  as 
on  the  morrow  she  would  die.  And  to  all  others  moved 
by  a  lofty  purpose,  and  inspired  by  a  great  idea,  such  as 
patriots  and  ministers,  they  have  chattered  the  same  ex- 
postulations, warning  them  that  if  they  were  not  less  zeal- 
ous they  would  cut  short  their  days,  or  die  in  poverty,  as 
though  sudden  death  or  lack  of  riches  was  the  most  terri- 
rible  of  evils.  "Be  merciful  to  yourselves,"  echoes  the 
voices  of  these  earth-blinded  souls;  "be  pitiful  to  your- 
selves, do  not  throw  away  your  life,  be  considerate  of  your 
own  interests,  and  mindful  of  your  own  welfare.  Do  not 
throw  away  your  life,  we  beseech  you;  you  have  only  one, 
husband  it,  care  for  it,  cherish  it,  wrap  it  in  a  napkin  and 
burv  it  where  it  will  be  safe." 


SAVING   TO    LOSE.  359 

When,  two  or  three  years  ago,  in  our  religious  gather- 
ings we  sung  the  lines, 

"Oh!  to  be  nothing,  nothing, 
But  simply  to  lie  at  His  feet, 
A  broken,  empty  vessel, 

For  the  Master's  use  made  meet." 

the  sentiment  was  received  in  some  quarters  with  derision. 
It  was  said  sarcastically,  "  what  have  such  cities  as  New 
York,  Boston,  or  Chicago,  in  common  with  such  self-ab- 
negation ?"  "The  age,"  it  was  declared,  "  is  self-assert- 
ive, and  the  thought  of  this  hymn  is  utterly  foreign  to  its 
spirit  and  its  life."  Unquestionably  the  criticism  has 
some  foundation  in  fact;  but  admitting  this  to  be  cor- 
rect, it  does  not  condemn  the  sentiment  of  the  hymn,  but 
rather  the  temper  of  our  times.  Unhappy  are  we  if  our 
civilization  has  so  materialized  us  that  no  room  can  be 
found  for  the  generous  devotion  of  self  to  a  worthy  and 
sublime  enterprise,  if  there  is  nothing  higher  for  a  man  on 
earth  than  the  zealous  promotion  of  his  own  worldly  in- 
terests. Christ  not  only  rebukes,  but  also  states  the 
essential  folly  of  such  a  theory.  In  His  turn  He  remon- 
strates with  humanity,  in  substance  saying:  "Be  merciful 
to  thyself;  for  whosoever  will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it." 
What  the  Savior  taught  upon  this  point  has  not  only 
been  reiterated  by  His  disciples,  but  even  some  of  the 
heathen  have  recognized  its  essential  soundness.  With 
a  clearness  that  may  well  put  to  shame  the  boasted  broad- 
ness and  discernment  of  our  age,  it  was  perceived  by  sev- 
eral of  the  wiser  pagans  that  to  be  something  life  must  be 
nothing,  and  that  to  save  it  it  must  be  lost.  One  of  these 
writers  I  quote,  and  only  one,  and  he  a  representative 
of  that  Asiatic  thought  which  some  restless  minds  are 
seeking  in  our  day  to  array  against  Christianity,  who 
elaborates  into  a  philosophy  what  Jesus  delivered  as  an 
apothegm.     I    refer  to   Lau-Tsze,  the  Chinese,  who  was 


360  IS. MS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

contemporary  with  Confucius,  and  who  excelled  that 
celebrated  personage  in  the  grandeur  of  his  teachings. 
Six  hundred  years  before  Christ  he  gave  utterance  to  the 
following  sentiment:  "The  sage  does  not  lay  up  treas- 
ures. The  more  he  does  for  others  the  more  he  has  of  his 
own.  The  more  he  gives  to  others  the  more  he  is  in- 
creased." On  which  sentiment  the  translator  and  editor 
of  his  works  offers  the  following  comment  from  Bunyan: 

"A  man  there  was,  though  some  did  count  him  mad, 
The  more  he  gave  away  the  more  he  had." 

In  another  place  this  ancient  sage  exclaims:  "  He  who 
bears  the  reproach  of  his  country  shall  be  called  the  lord 
of  the  land.  He  who  bears  the  calamities  of  his  country 
shall  be  called  the  king  of  the  world."  .  .  .  "He  that 
makes  mars.  He  that  grasps  loses.  The  sage  makes 
nothing,  therefore  he  mars  nothing.  He  grasps  nothing, 
therefore  he  loses  nothing."  ..."  When  he  washes  to  be 
before  the  people  he  must,  in  his  person,  keep  behind 
them.  When  he  wishes  to  be  above  the  people  he  must, 
in  his  language,  keep  below  them."  He  also  declared 
"  that  he  that  is  diminished  shall  succeed,"  and  to  him 
may  be  traced  the  pregnant  suggestion,  expressed  by 
Oken,  "Zero  is  the  essence  of  mathematics."  Just  as  we 
are  able  by  the  sign  "  0  "  to  make  the  most  abstruse  and 
complicated  calculations,  so  when  a  man  descends  to  that 
sign  of  nothingness  is  he  able  to  rise  to  the  sublimest 
heights  of  potency  and  greatness.  As  zero  is  the  very  sub- 
stance of  mathematical  science,  so  self-denial  is  the  very 
substance  of  personal  usefulness.  Or,  as  the  Talmud  has 
it:  "Whosoever  runs  after  greatness,  greatness  runs  away 
from  him;  whosoever  runs  from  greatness,  greatness  fol- 
lows him."  Which  is  just  equal  to  saying:  "Whosoever 
will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it,  and  whosoever  will  lose  his 
life  for  my  sake  shall  save  it." 


ENLARGING    LIFE.  361 

While  it  is  well  to  recall  the  fact  that  thoughtful  souls 
of  pre-Christian  ages  have  approved  the  principle  com- 
mended by  the  Savior,  we  should  at  the  same  time  realize 
that  it  is  not  only  attested  by  evidence,  but  is  grounded 
in  common  sense.  What  more  reasonable  than  the  belief 
that  life  becomes  broader,  deeper,  fuller,  more  abundant, 
in  proportion  as  it  is  concerned  with  the  interests  of 
others  ?  By  identifying  itself  with  the  lives  of  many,  by 
making  their  cause  its  own,  by  entering  sympathetically 
into  all  their  sorrows,  hopes  and  fears  it  must  inevitably 
enlarge  its  own  capacity  and  elevate  its  character.  Just 
as  the  heavens  increase  in  radiance  proportionate  to  the 
multiplication  of  stars  that  gleam  in  their  vault;  just  as 
the  winds  increase  in  fragrance  according  to  the  extent 
of  sweet-scented  fields  over  which  they  blow;  and  just  as 
the  river  grows  in  fullness,  the  greater  the  number  of 
streams  that  flow  into  its  bosom,  so  life  must  become 
more  luminous,  more  fragrant  and  more  complete  the 
more  it  admits  the  hopes  of  others  to  a  place  in  its  sky, 
and  mingles  the  griefs  and  cares  of  others  in  its  floods. 
The  mother  is  conscious  of  an  expansiveness  of  soul,  and 
of  a  peculiar  personal  elevation  that  comes  with  her  self- 
surrender  for  her  child.  And  the  more  she  denies  herself 
the  pleasures  of  society,  when  they  seem  to  conflict  with 
devotion  to  her  offspring,  the  more  ennobled  does  she  feel, 
and,  in  reality,  the  more  ennobled  she  is.  Another  star 
glitters  in  the  azure  of  her  love,  and  though  a  tiny  one, 
it  brightens  the  path  of  her  feet.  The  man  who  is  en- 
tirely absorbed  in  business,  who  has  no  thought  beyond 
its  marts,  and  no  ambition  higher  than  its  gains,  may,  in 
many  respects,  be  very  estimable,  but  obviously  his  spirit- 
ual stature  cannot  be  as  great,  nor  his  capacity  for  enjoy- 
ment be  as  large,  as  they  would  be  were  he  steadfastly  to 
make  his  temporal  affairs  directly  tributary  to  the  well- 
being  of  humanity.     In  the  former  case  he  becomes  grad- 


362  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

ually  assimilated  to  the  dryness,  hardness  and  narrowness 
of  his  pursuits;  but  in  the  latter,  like  Lorenzo  De'  Medici, 
he  grows  toward  the  fair  or  grand  ideal  for  the  actualiza- 
tion of  which  he  cheerfully  endures  the  daily  round  of 
monotonous  toil  and  care.  Hence  it  is  that  in  trade 
and  commercial  circles  we  frequently  meet  with  men  who 
tower  above  their  associates,  and  whose  presence  carries 
with  it  sunshine  and  peace.  They  are  poets,  artists,  saints 
or  scholars  in  their  instincts;  they  desire  to  beautify, 
sanctify  and  enlighten  the  race;  and  swayed  by  this  pas- 
sion they  rise  early,  retire  late,  and  submit  to  all  kinds  of 
self-denial  that  means  may  be  procured  for  its  gratifica- 
tion, and  in  doing  this  they  themselves  become  beautified, 
sanctified  and  enlightened. 

During  my  various  wanderings  in  the  old  world  I  have 
frequently  been  reminded  of  this  truth.  There  are  ancient 
churches  in  Europe  which  the  American  traveler  soon 
learns  to  venerate,  not  merely  because  they  are  the  shrines 
of  Deity,  but  because  they  have  become  the  memorials  of 
human  greatness.  Indeed,  God  is  less  thought  of  than 
man  within  the  sacred  walls  of  Westminster,  Santa  Croce, 
and  the  French  Pantheon.  There,  mingling  with  the  dust 
of  kings  and  princes,  rest  the  honored  ashes  of  the  martyr- 
heroes  both  of  science  and  religion,  the  explorers  of  na- 
ture's mysteries,  the  prophets  of  the  world's  progress. 
And  yet  these  were  the  very  men  whose  names  were  cast 
out  as  evil  by  their  own  times,  who  were  derided  as  fanat- 
ics and  dreamers,  who  were  denounced  as  disturbers  and 
iconoclasts,  who  were  pitied  by  friends  and  hated  by  ene- 
mies, whose  senseless  remains  are  now  entombed  in  so 
much  state.  Verily,  the  fanatics  of  one  age  become  the 
gods  of  another,  and  the  dreamy  enthusiasts  of  the  past 
are  the  sober  commonplaces  of  the  present.  In  London, 
Paris  and  Florence  the  same  moral  appears  between  the 
lines  of  epitaphs  penned  by  the  descendants  of  persecutors 


EUROPEANS   AND   AMERICANS.  363 

in  commemoration  of  the  persecuted:  "Whoever  will  lose 
his  life  shall  save  it";  for  who  can  doubt  that  Dante,  Gal- 
ileo, Copernicus,  Bruno,  Columbus,  and  the  rest  of  their 
fraternity,  gained  more  in  their  consciousness  of  personal 
superiority,  and  derived  more  satisfaction  from  their  ex- 
alted thoughts,  than  they  sacrificed  in  temporal  estate, 
even  as  they  have  risen  to  such  a  height  of  dignity  and 
power  as  more  than  compensates  for  all  they  surrendered 
or  endured. 

Conversing  recently  with  an  acquaintance  at  Dresden 
on  continental  habits,  surprise  was  expressed  that  Ameri- 
cans were  so  indifferent  to  the  attractions  of  the  cafe  and 
the  open-air  concert.  It  was  said  that  they  made  life 
too  serious,  and  deprived  themselves  unnecessarily  of 
many  of  its  pleasures.  The  criticism  and  the  censure  on 
the  surface  seem  to  be  just,  and  yet  they  are  not  as  con- 
clusive as  they  appear.  Compare  life  on  both  continents, 
and  the  opinion  of  our  critic  will  hardly  stand.  In  reality 
he  assumes  that  the  end  of  human  existence  is  the  cafe  or 
the  concert-garden.  The  average  European  performs  his 
appointed  task  patiently,  if  not  cheerfully,  and  if  he  can 
sip  his  wine  or  beer  and  hear  music, —  music,  by  the  way, 
not  infrequently  of  an  excruciating  type, —  he  is  satisfied. 
That  he  calls  "  living,"  and,  in  the  meanwhile,  he  permits 
himself  to  be  drafted  into  armies,  consents  to  pay  enor- 
mous taxes  for  the  support  of  senseless  royalty,  and  grubs 
along  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  with  a  benumbed  con- 
sciousness of  what  he  is  and  what  he  should  be.  Such 
people  may  live  more  years  than  the  average  American, 
but  they  do  not  live  as  much  in  any  or  all  of  them  as  he. 
He  does  not  regard  amusement  as  the  chief  end  of  man, 
but  liberty,  culture,  mental  and  spiritual  growth,  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  and  the  elevation  of  his  fellow-beings.  As  a 
consequence,  his  experiences  are  more  diversified,  his  re- 
sources more  varied,  and  his  existence  more  complex  and 


364  ISMS    OLD    AND    NEW. 

complete.  What  he  loses  is  not  worthy  of  consideration 
in  view  of  what  he  gains.  Better,  far  better,  sacrifice 
seductive  pleasures,  pleasures  that  emasculate,  and  that 
perpetuate  dull  submission  to  oppressive  systems,  if  by 
doing  so  the  sense  of  freedom,  of  personal  independence, 
and  of  responsibility  for  the  condition  of  others  may  be 
won.  This  is  the  choice  of  our  people,  and  I  think  his- 
tory proves  that  it  is  never  successfully  made  where  time 
and  thought  are  to  any  extent  bestowed  on  sentient  indul- 
gencies  and  dissipating  follies.  If  the  citizens  of  any 
country  would  save  their  highest  life,  and  the  only  life 
worth  living,  they  must  be  willing  to  lose  their  lowest, 
and  which,  after  all,  is  not  worth  preserving.  I  need  not 
attempt  to  show  you  how  this  principle  is  confirmed  in  our 
Savior's  history,  or  that  it  is  the  most  obvious  teaching 
of  the  New  Testament.  He  who  was  made  poor  is  now 
rich;  He  who  bore  the  cross  on  earth  is  now  seated  on  the 
throne  in  heaven;  He  who  was  embraced  of  death  is  now 
alive  forevermore;  He  who,  in  Peter's  judgment,  ought  to 
have  had  more  mercy  on  Himself  has  convinced  His  err- 
ing servant  that  He  really  did  compassionate  Himself 
when  He  chose  to  ascend  the  hill  of  shame;  for  that,  and 
that  alone,  led  to  the  height  of  glory. 

From  this  line  of  thought  it  is  not  difficult  to  perceive 
that  a  man  can  come  to  feel  real  delight  in  the  gift  of  ex- 
istence, and  can  attain  to  conscious  enjoyment  of  the  life 
to  which  he  has  been  called  by  God.  Of  the  refined  and 
elevating  nature  of  this  enjoyment  there  can  be  no  doubt, 
and  the  only  question  that  remains  to  be  considered  is 
whether  as  a  motive  to  action  it  is  commendable  and 
legitimate.  Or,  to  frame  the  inquiry  differently,  whether 
we  may  with  propriety  be  influenced  by  considerations  of 
our  own  well  being  to  seek  the  well  being  of  others? 
Altruists  think  not.  They  argue  that  a  subtle  selfishness 
is  interwoven   with   all    such    considerations ;    that  every 


THE   UNSELFISH    MOTIVE.  365 

kind  of  motive  impairs  the  character  of  virtue,  and  that 
duty  should  be  performed  simply  because  it  ought  to  be 
performed.  To  Christian  people  this  seems  to  be  an  ex- 
treme view  to  take  of  the  matter;  nor  can  they  see  how 
the  idea  of  motive  is  to  be  eliminated  from  right  conduct. 
For  instance,  is  not  the  very  sense  of  oughtness,  on  which 
the  Altruist  lays  so  much  stress,  in  itself  a  motive  of  the 
weightiest  kind?  If  that  ceased  to  control,  would  not 
practical  righteousness  fall  into  decay  ?  But  whether  we 
regard  it  as  a  motive  or  not,  we  believe  that  it  is  right  to 
do  good  to  those  around  us;  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
the  reasons  we  have  for  this  belief  are  equally  conclusive 
in  favor  of  our  doing  good  to  ourselves.  Altruists  and  all 
agree  that  it  would  be  contrary  to  nature  for  us  not  to 
have  concern  for  the  happiness  of  the  race,  and  it  is 
equally  evident  that  it  would  be  no  less  contrary  to  nature 
for  us  to  be  indifferent  to  our  own.  The  instinct  of  self- 
preservation,  the  horror  we  have  of  suicidal  recklessness, 
and  the  contempt  we  feel  for  those  slatternly  individuals 
who  are  heedless  of  their  standing  and  influence,  suffi- 
ciently prove  that  the  obligation  to  seek  in  some  sense 
our  own  is  an  everlasting  reality.  It  has  always  been 
more  or  less  of  a  problem  to  know  how  this  can  be  done, 
and  the  individual  at  the  same  time  be  preserved  from 
utter  and  irremediable  selfishness;  and  when  it  is  shown 
that  it  can  be  effected  by  devotion  to  the  interests  of 
those  around  us  the  practical  philanthropy  involved  in  the 
method  certainly  justifies  and  glorifies  the  motive.  There- 
fore I  am  convinced  that  this  motive  is.not  fairly  open  to 
the  objections  which  are  so  freely  pronounced  by  Altruists, 
and  that  in  being  influenced  by  it  we  are  neither  degrad- 
ing ourselves  nor  corrupting  the  idea  of  virtue. 

Thomas  a  Kempis,  writing  on  the  duty  of  self-renuncia- 
tion, exclaims:  "O  Lord,  this  is  not  the  work  of  one  day, 
nor  children's  sport;  yea,  rather  in  this  short  word  is  in- 


366  ISMS  OLD   AND   NEW. 

eluded  all  perfection."  It  is  well  that  we  lay  this  thought 
to  heart.  With  honesty  of  purpose  we  may  decide  hence- 
forward to  practice  the  law  of  self-denial,  but  never  having 
measured  the  difficulties  in  the  way  we  may  speedily  be 
discouraged.  Our  egoism,  our  self-love,  and  the  example 
of  multitudes  around  us,  may  suggest  the  hopelessness  of 
the  undertaking,  and  we  may  be  driven  back  to  our  old 
self-seeking  and  to  the  degradation  of  self-worship.  We 
may  escape  this  sad  experience  if  we  will  but  remember 
what  a  Kempis  teaches,  that  such  a  life  is  "not  the  work 
of  one  day,"  and  that,  consequently,  we  should  not  aban- 
don our  sublime  task  because  we  meet  with  defeats  and 
failures  in  its  performance.  Persevere;  exercise  yourselves 
continually  unto  self-renunciation,  and  gradually  will  you 
overcome  all  obstacles  to  a  complete  conformity  to  Him 
who  "loved  us  and  who  gave  Himself  for  us." 

If  you  can  only  be  persuaded  by  what  has  been  said  to 
undertake  this,  "  the  life  of  the  Son  of  Man  in  the  flesh," 
you  will  soon  cease  to  question  its  moral  grandeur.  The 
staleness  and  monotony  will  speedily  disappear,  and  you 
will  realize  that  you  have  at  last  discovered  the  secret  of 
its  jorofit  and  its  power.  Instead  of  being  a  burden  it  will 
be  a  blessing  to  you;  the  bloom  will  return  to  its  cheek, 
the  luster  to  its  eye,  the  dew  to  its  forehead.  You  will 
rejoice  to  possess  it;  you  will  delight  in  its  experiences; 
you  will  be  glad  in  its  trials.  Life  will  be  to  you  entirely 
different  from  what  it  has  been;  it  will  be  invested  with  a 
new  charm,  a  fresh  beauty,  a  solemn  glory.  Yea,  you  will 
be  led  repeatedly  to  exclaim:  "That  which  was  lost  is 
found,  and  the  dead  is  alive  again."  Rejoicing  in  its  sal- 
vation, you  will  contemplate  its  close  with  hope,  believing 
that  that  which  has  yielded  you  so  much  satisfaction  here 
will  multiply  your  joys  hereafter.  You  will  look  for  the 
life  on  earth  to  wreathe  crowns  for  the  life  in  glory,  and 
you  will  part  from  it  below  sustained  by  the  prospect  of 


LIFE    IN    DEATH.  367 

greeting  it  above.  In  this  sweet  confidence  may  you 
abide,  my  reader;  may  each  day  be  filled  with  music,  and 
each  night  with  peace;  and  when  the  hour  of  separation 
comes  may  your  blood-washed  soul  chant  in  tenderest 
strains  the  fond  adieu: 

"  Life !  we've  been  long  together, 
Through  pleasant  and  through  cloudy  weather; 
'Tis  hard  to  part  when  friends  are  dear, — 
Perhaps  'twill  cost  a  sigh,  a  tear; 
Then  steal  away,  give  little  warning, 
Choose  thine  own  time ; 

Say  not  "Good  Night"— but  in  some  brighter  clime 
Bid  me  "Good  Morning." 


BOOKS   PUBLISHED   BY 

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ANDERSON-AMERICA  NOT  DISCOVERED  BY  CO- 
LUMBUS. A  historical  Sketch  of  the  Discovery  of  America  by  the 
Norsemen  in  the  ioth  century.  By  Prof.  R.  B.  Anderson.  With 
an  Appendix  on  the  Historical,  Literary  and  Scientific  value  of  the 
Scandinavian  Languages.      i2mo,  cloth,  $i. 

"  A  valuable  addition  to  American  history."  — Notes  and  Queries,  London. 

ANDERSON -NORSE  MYTHOLOGY;    or,  the  Religion  of 

our  Forefathers.  Containing  all  the  Myths  of  the  Eddas  carefully 
systematized  and  interpreted ;  with  an  Introduction,  Vocabulary  and 
Index.  By  R.  B.  Anderson,  Prof,  of  Scandinavian  Languages 
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"  Prof.  Anderson's  work  is  incomparably  superior  to  the  already  existing  books 
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ANDERSON  VIKINC  TALES  OF  THE  NORTH.  The  Sagas 
of  Thorstein,  Viking's  Son  and  Fridthjof  the  Bold.  Translated  from 
the  Icelandic  by  Prof.  R.  B.  Anderson  ;  also  Tegner's  Fridthjof's 
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quaintly  delightful  sagas  ought  to  charm  many  thousands  of  readers,  and  your 
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ANDERSON  THE  YOUNGER  EDDA,-also  called  Snorre  s 
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"  The  most  complete  and  literally  faithful  English  version  yet  produced  of 
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BLANC-THE  CRAMMAR  OF  PAINTING  AND  ENGRAV- 
ING. Translated  from  the  French  of  Charles  Blanc  by  Mrs.  Kate 
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BREDIF-  DEMOSTHENES -POLITICAL     ELOQUENCE 

IN  GREECE.  With  extracts  from  his  orations,  and  a  critical 
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HOLCOMB  FRIDTHJOF'S  SACA.  A  Norse  Romance.  By 
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HUDSON -LAW  FOR  THE  CLERGY.  A  compilation  of  the 
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JONES-THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL.  An  Indian  Love 
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JANSON-THE  SPELL-BOUND  FIDDLER.  A  Norse  Ro 
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JOUSSET- CLINICAL  LECTURES.  From  the  French  of  P. 
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A.  E.  Small,  M.D.,  in  Chicago  Tribune. 

KIPPAX-CHURCHYARD  LITERATURE.  A  choice  collection 
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LIE  THE  PILOT  AND  HIS  WIFE.  A  Norse  Love  Story. 
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LIE-THE  BARQUE  FUTURE.  By  Jonas  Lie.  Translated  by 
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commend  it  to  our  readers  in  the  strongest  terms.—  Literary  World,  Boston. 

LORIMER-"lSMS."  OLD  AND  NEW.  By  George  C.  Lor 
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Contents. — Agnosticism  —  Atheism  —  Pantheism  —  Materialism  —  Natural- 
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—  Altruism. 

In  Press.     Ready  in  October,  1881. 


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MATHEWS -THE     GREAT     CONVERSERS,     and     Other 

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MATHEWS      WORDS,     THEIR     USE     AND     ABUSE.        By 

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MATHEWS- HOURS    WITH     MEN     AND     BOOKS.  By 

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MATHEWS- MONDAY-CHATS.  By  C.  A.  Sainte -Beuve. 
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MATHEWS -ORATORY  AND  ORATORS.  By  William 
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ROBERTSON'S     LIVING    THOUGHTS.       A    THESAURUS 
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ROGERS  THE  WAVERLEY  DICTIONARY.  An  Alphabet 
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TAYLOR -SONGS  OF  YESTERDAY.  By  Benj.  F.  Taylor. 
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and  many  of  those  in  the  present  volume  are  destined  to  as  wide  a  popularity  as 
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TAYLOR -BETWEEN  THE  GATES.      By   Benj.    F.   Taylor. 

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shimmer  with  sunbeams,  and  are  gay  with  flowers."— Methodist  Protestant, 
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TAYLOR- IN    CAMP   AND    FIELD.       By   Benj.    F.   Taylor. 
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TAYLOR -OLD-TIME    PICTURES    AND    SHEAVES    OF 

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may  happen  to  be."— E.  P.  Whipple,  Esq.,  in  the  Boston  Globe 

"  Few  equal  Mr.  Taylor  as  a  word-painter.  He  fascinates  with  his  artistic 
touches,  and  exhilarates  with  his  sparkling  humor,  and  subdues  with  his  sweet 
pathos.     His  sentences  glisten  like  gems  in  the  sunlight. -Albany  Journal. 


rUBLICATIOXS  OF  S.    C.    GRIGGS  &>    CO.,   CHICAGO. 

WHEELER -THE      FOREIGNER     IN      CHINA.       By    L     N. 

Wheeler,  D.  D.  With  introduction  by  Prof.  W.  C.  Sawyer, 
Ph.  D.     i2mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

The  simplest,  clearest  and  most  complete  statement  of  the  relations 
of  China  and  the  Chinese  to  Western  civilization  to  be  found  in  the 
English  tongue.     Ready  in  Sept.,  1 88 1. 

WINCHELL-PREADAMITES:   or,   A    Demonstration    of 

the  Existence  of  Men  before  Adam  ;  together  with  a  Study  of  their 
Condition,  Antiquity,  Racial  Affinities,  and  Progressive  Dispersion 
over  the  Earth.  With  Charts  and  other  Illustrations.  By  Alexander 
Winchell,  LL.  D.,  Prof,  of  Geology  and  Palaeontology  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Michigan  ;  Author  of  "  Sketches  of  Creation,"  etc.  8vo, 
cloth,  $3.50. 

"  A  remarkable  and  powerful  contribution  to  the  reconciliation  of  the  Bible  and 
modern  science." — Literary  World,  Boston. 

"  One  of  the  most  noteworthy  contributions  to  an  important  branch  of  the  great 
controversy  of  our  day  that  has  been  given  to  the  world  in  either  hemisphere." — 
Montreal  Gazette. 

"The  work  is  popular  in  its  best  sense — attractive  in  style,  clear  in  exposition, 
and  eminently  instructive.  .  .  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  it  settles  the  con- 
troversy."— Popi4lar  Science  Monthly. 

"  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  there  is  no  single  work  in  our  language  which 
brings  together  so  much  of  the  latest  investigations  concerning  the  tribes  of  men 
inhabiting  our  planet,  and  their  distribution  over  the  continents."—  The  American 
Naturalist. 

WINCHELL -SPARKS  FROM  A  GEOLOGIST'S  HAM- 
MER. By  Alexander  Winchell,  LL.  D„  Professor  of  Geology 
and  Palaeontology  in  the  University  of  Michigan,  Author  of  "Pre- 
Adamites,"  "Sketches  of  Creation,"  etc.  Illustrated.  121110,  cloth,  $2. 
A  progressive  series  of  papers  adapted  to  convey  to  the  general 
reader,  in  attractive  style^  the  fullest  and  latest  results  of  scientific 
investigation  with  reference  to  the  history  of  our  planet.  Ready 
in  October,  1881. 


